Of Saiyajin Namek and Elves
by MissJinny
Summary: Epilogue 2 of 3::DBZ:LoTR xover. AU,slight OOC,yaoi. With the aid of a faulty timemachine. Piccolo, Goku, Vegeta and Bulma are sucked into a new world where a Hobbit needs help and a fiery eye reigns supreme.
1. The Senshi's New Clothes

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z, nor do I own The Lord of the Rings.  However, I have borrowed the characters to create this story and hope that I don't offend too many people in the process.

AU for BOTH types…mostly for DBZ, but some variation for LoTR…don't hate me.  There is at least one yaoi pairing in the works and that's Goku/Vegeta.  That's MALE/MALE RELATIONSHIPS WITHIN----  don't like it, don't read it.  It isn't for a while yet anyway, so don't hold your breath.

A/N:  Okay, so I had this idea for a while, and it started out good, but now my mind is stuck but I'm working diligently.  Some of my first ideas have changed, I'm iffy about some romantic pairings I had initially wanted to make (and boy would they piss some people off…) but I digress.   

There is some OOC-iness, but I tried my damndest to keep them as true as I could.  The saiyajin and Piccolo DO NOT have any use of ki on Middle Earth, they only have their martial arts expertise, extreme speed and strength.  Please try to remember that when events happen.  

Please don't rate me too harshly, it simply started out from my obsession with both groups and I wanted to join them together for a little adventure.  You'll see where it goes.  If I spell names wrong, mix people up, etc. please do let me know, but this is AU for both even though it follows the LoTR timeline mostly.  If anyone wants to leave little notes, something they might want to see happen, etc let me know in a review and I'll try to work it in somewhere.  Just remember I have veto rights.

Anyway, on with the story…

Of Saiyajin, Namek and Elves

Excited chittering echoes in the empty halls from a lab, far at then end of a hallway deep in the hollows of Capsule Corporation.  A sign posted on the cold black surface of a heavy door reads, "Genius At Work".

Beyond the door stood said genius, her blue hair bouncing around her shoulders as she worked frantically with a screwdriver and vice grips clasped in either hand.  Three other figures stood in the room with her.  The largest leaning against a gutted refrigerator, a heavy white cape curled around one leg and a look of severe irritation etched across his emerald face.  Another with wildly splayed hair bobbed behind our genius with large eyes and a wide smile, now and then pointing to some inner workings of the gadget the blue-haired beauty was working on.  The third stood much like the first, arms crossed over his chest and leaning into a wall.  His hard ebony eyes watched the man bob around the machine before snorting and flicking his eyes to a clock across the room.  It would appear to the educated observer that he found the whole ordeal a waste of his valuable time.

Finally, one of our stoic, statuesque men shifts on his feet and a small growl of annoyance catches the attention of everyone in the room.  "Kakkarot, stop bouncing around!  You're making me dizzy."  The voice is deep and gruff and has come from the smaller man holding up one of the lab walls.

Kakkarot stood still with a large grin while he scratched the back of his head.  "Sorry, 'Geta.  I'm just excited."  Vegeta snuffed and looked at the clock again.  "Hey Bulma, what's that do?"  Kakkarot pointed into the complex mesh of wires and computer chips.

Vegeta frowned.  "And stop asking stupid questions so that the Onna can finish and we can all leave."

Our genius turned with a scowl, her azure eyes flashing.  "Shut up, Vegeta!"  She turned her blue head to Kakkarot.  "That is a stabilizer, Goku.  It's supposed to keep the machine from bursting apart when it skips across time."

Vegeta's eyes widened, "Keep it from bursting apart?  Kami, woman!  Are you trying to kill us?"

"Now you look here buster, you should be thankful I'm putting it in there.  I could leave it out and let you take the test run if you're so damned cocky!"

"Cocky!  I'll show you…" Vegeta glared, a small bulb of ki glowing in his fist.

"Enough all of you."  A deep gravely voice rumbled.  The tall green man turned.  His angular face tilted down at them with eye ridges drawn together.  He looked to Bulma who had frozen in place, one hand raised in a fist with a screwdriver clutched in it was aimed for Vegeta.  "Bulma, how much longer is this going to take?"

Lowering her arm, Bulma gazed down into the networking of electronics and furrowed her brow in thought.  "Maybe twenty minutes…half an hour tops."

Vegeta snorted.  "Twenty minutes… you've wasted enough of my time already."

"Just stop, Vegeta."  An emerald scowl deepened.

"And what are you going to do about it, Namek?"  Vegeta cocked an eyebrow and smirked.  

"Look at it this way _monkey_," the stress on his favorite torment not going unnoticed as Vegeta seethed, "the less you bicker the faster Bulma can finish whatever this is supposed to be and we can all get back to our routines."

Vegeta frowned and turned his back to all of them.  Goku stood beside Piccolo and tried his best not to fidget.  Piccolo receded back into his mind and toned out the noise of the lab.  He didn't know why exactly Bulma had Goku summon him along with the two saiyajins.  Apparently Bulma believed she had figured out the whole time machine thing and thought that they would want to visit Mirai Trunks' time.  Piccolo, even though intrigued at the idea of seeing Satan City and his beloved waterfall in a different form of ruins, believed it inevitably worth while even if it meant that he enjoyed and appreciated what he had when he returned to this time – but he didn't know why Bulma automatically queued him as a possible candidate to go first thing.  

What annoyed him the most was that Bulma had called them all well over an hour ago, and she still wasn't finished with the machine.  What ever happened to the times when a great unveiling happened **_after_** the genius was done?  The object complete?  Piccolo believed he knew the answer to his questions.  When they had entered the small room, Bulma had heaved a great sigh of relief and he watched as tension drained from her face.  He didn't think Goku or Vegeta had noticed, Vegeta too busy berating Goku and Goku too busy taking it with a Son smile.  She had been afraid something would happen and she would be jumped somewhere all alone without someone to help keep her safe. Which made sense to the Kami side of Piccolo's mind, the Nail and Diahmoa side just grunted and thought the sound of a decent fight would be perfectly fine.

Goku bumped into him and Piccolo's eyes opened slowly, the normally placid features deepened into a small frown.  Goku giggled and scratched the back of his head in apology.  Piccolo sighed and looked to the clock.  It had been nearly fifteen minutes, which was close to a new record for Goku to remain still, and Bulma was smiling as she wiped her hands on the back of her pants.

"I think that does it guys!"  She beamed at them and closed the lid of the piece of gadgetry.  Goku picked it up for her and set it gently inside a gaping hole in the side of a bullet shaped machine.  Bulma settled to her knees and connected wires while the men gathered in a small semi-circle around the pod.  Sliding the door silently into place, Bulma stood up and pushed a lock of hair from her face, a small streak of grease smeared across her forehead in the process.

"Well guys what do you think?"  The three of them looked the thing over, it was large enough to seat one person and looked quite a bit like the one that Mirai Trunks had used to come to their time except for one difference…the interior was 'sea-foam' green and the exterior shell an abrasive shade of neon pink.  Piccolo felt himself gag and his eyes felt like they would fall out of his head.  Vegeta had already turned partially away from it so that he didn't have to look directly at it, and Goku was too busy plopping himself on the inside and gawking at switches to notice.

"It's…fine."  Piccolo talked to the wall behind Bulma's head but she didn't seem to notice.

"It's an abomination!  It should be destroyed and put out of its misery!"  Vegeta cupped a hand around his eye to hide the hideous thing from his sight.

Bulma huffed and crossed her arms over her bosom.  "Then you don't have to travel in it!"  She stuck out her tongue and Vegeta grinned.

"Good, then I'll be leaving."  He turned to the door but Bulma leapt in front of him.  

"Where do you think you're going?!"  

"You said I didn't have to use the blasted thing so I'll just go back to my training."  Vegeta pushed her aside and opened the door.

"Hey 'Geta you should look at all the neat buttons and things in here." Goku's head popped out of the door of the time machine and he frowned.  "Where are you going?"

Vegeta paused in his step and hesitated before shutting the door and stalking to the pink bubble to peer inside.  Goku smiled happily at the back of Vegeta's head before pointing out various knobs that worked random things to pilot it.

Piccolo shook his head.  "So when are you going to test it?"  Bulma nearly jumped out of her skin as he spoke.  He had a way of being so unobtrusive that she had forgotten he was there.

"Right now I guess."  She put a well-manicured finger to her lips.  Vegeta quickly retreated from the machine and Goku stepped out after him with a quizzical look on his face.

"So who's going to take it first?"  Goku piped up, stepping beside his longtime friend.  Bulma shrugged.  "Can I?"  She looked up at him, and laughed.  He was looking down at her with puppy eyes and pushing out his bottom lip into a cute little pout.

"Fine.  I'll just show you what to do first okay?"  She walked to the glass and motioned Goku to sit down.

"Wait!"  Vegeta called out.  They all turned.  "Kakkarot can't go!"

Piccolo smirked down at him.  "Why not?"

"Because…what if he can't get back?"

"Why do you care if he comes back or not, Vegeta?  I thought you hated him."  Piccolo watched in amusement as Vegeta's eye twitched.

"I do…but if he doesn't return how am I supposed to beat the tar out of him?"  Piccolo gave him a knowing look and nodded his head. Vegeta glared up at him and mentally restrained himself from wiping that smile from the Namek's face.

"It's okay Vegeta, I'll be careful."  Goku smiled, one different from his normal lopsided grin, and turned so that Bulma could show him which controls to use.

After several minutes of down packing the information, Goku nodded his head and put on his game face.  As he pulled the door shut the machine slowly came to life with a low buzz.  Goku grinned for a moment and fiddled with switches along the inside.  Bulma bit her lip and crossed her fingers.

A sizzling blue light snapped and crackled around the outside of the shell and the others squinted their eyes against the glare.  The room rocked under their feet, machinery tumbling off of shelves and crashing to the floor.  Bulma stumbled and tripped over a skidding piece of engine block and caught herself in Piccolo's cape.  Piccolo grunted and widened his stance to take up the extra weight and set her on her feet with one hand.  

Vegeta covered his eyes with one hand and fisted the other, "Kakkarot shut that damned thing off!"

His voice was swallowed in the noise as the air itself seemed to be ripping apart around them.  Piccolo winced as his ears began to ring and raised his ki level to keep the flying debris in the room from harming him.  He pulled Bulma into the protective bubble and grunted as she clutched as his gi and buried her face in the loose fabric.  The floor suddenly tilted under their feet and Piccolo felt vertigo grip his head and he struggled to keep himself upright.  He looked down and his jaw dropped, the floor was gone with nothing but a void of blackness stretching beneath them.  Bulma let out a shriek as her hands slipped and she tumbled backward.  Quick as lightening, Piccolo shot out and arm and grasped her by the wrist.  Unfortunately for Bulma, she had chosen to wear a thick bracelet and as the vertigo washed over her again she could feel the plastic slipping over her wrist.

Eyes wide in terror, Bulma squeaked as the cuff released her and she felt herself falling.  Piccolo snatched out and clutched at the empty air, Bulma was plunging into the void.

Then just as it all happened, it all stopped.  Bulma hit grass-covered ground with a soft thump.  Piccolo froze in place and reached out for ki signatures and found those of Vegeta and Goku, but none of the other Z senshi.  A cool breeze blew across his sweaty skin and an odd draft wrapped around his legs.  Piccolo looked down to see where the hole in his gi was but instead stumbled back and clutched at the material wrapped around him.  

It wasn't his gi, hell it probably wasn't something he'd wear in a nightmare.  A long violet tunic was draped across him, the loose ends tapping against his thighs, cinched at the waist with a pale blue belt.  Heavy brown boots weighed funny on his feet and stiff armor shards were strapped to his forearms.  He looked up in awe and saw that a forest of tall deciduous trees surrounded him.  The breeze blew again and the leaves rattled softly as though laughing at him.  Bulma was several feet away and shook her head as she sat up.  She ran a shaky hand through her hair and shrieked.

Piccolo winced and glared at her, not knowing what was wrong with her but quite displeased to have a headache as well as inadequate clothing.  Goku ran out of a small copse of trees and looked wildly about him until he saw Bulma lying unharmed on the ground and let out a breath of relief.  The crunch of twigs and an annoyed grumble came from Piccolo's right and he watched as Vegeta exited between two birches and stood in the clearing with his arms folded tight over his chest.

Piccolo noticed that Goku and Vegeta both seemed to be wearing the horrid clothing, though neither of them had noticed or they didn't care.  Bulma was standing on her feet with the aid of Goku—draped in a dusty brown tunic—and was gazing down at herself with mild amusement and surprise.  She was now wrapped tightly in a wine colored dress that flowed off of her hips and a small black braided belt hung across her waist.

Vegeta finally broke the silence with a harsh bark of laughter.  Piccolo turned to him in shock and saw Vegeta was smirking up at him.  "Nice outfit, Namek.  Though that dress does give you that leggy look."

Piccolo crossed his thick arms and frowned deeply down at him.  "At least I'm observant."  Vegeta narrowed his eyes.  "Look at yourself, Vegeta…you seem to be wearing a rather impressive 'dress' yourself."

Vegeta looked down and gaped in shock, grabbing fistfuls of the clothing and tugging on it to make sure they really were on his body.  Vegeta's outfit was similar to what Piccolo was wearing save for color.  A fitted navy blue tunic tied with a wide white belt and chunky black boots that rose mid-calf.  

Vegeta looked up at them with a look of disgust that rivaled the time Goku had shown him a picture of a six-foot worm from Australia in one of Gohan's schoolbooks.  "Where in all Hell's are we?"  

Goku looked amongst them and shrugged.  His face had taken on the same look seen better than a dozen times at the beginning of Earth saving battles.  Eyes narrowed, Goku looked around at the area and frowned.  "I can't sense the boys…we must have all jumped to somewhere else."

"How observant of you Kakkarot, or have you forgotten that you traveled here in a TIME MACHINE!"  Vegeta puffed up.

"I know Vegeta."  Goku hadn't even looked at him as he spoke and Vegeta narrowed his eyes.  "But we aren't on Earth…"

Piccolo breathed deeply and let it out slowly.  The air was sweet and strikingly clean.  The only sounds he could hear were the movement of their clothing and animals a few yards away walking in the forests.  Piccolo stepped closer to them and cocked his head to one side.  Something was coming… it was a noise he should know but his mind didn't register it.

"Someone's coming…" Piccolo spoke low and closed his eyes to concentrate.

Vegeta snorted.  "What are you blathering on about Namek?"

A neigh of a horse echoed amongst the trees and Piccolo picked his head up.  _Of course_.  The stampeding of hooves beat the ground, five…no six of them.  "Quickly, get into the trees!"

Bulma's eyes widened in fear.  "What's going on?"  

Piccolo growled and pointed to the tree line.  "Someone is coming, and until we know if they are friendly and how strong they are we need to remain hidden."  Bulma was nodding her head and gathering her skirts all the while running into the trees.  Goku walked quickly into them and motioned for Vegeta to follow.  Grunting, Vegeta leapt into a nearby tree and perched among the mid-branches to keep hidden.  Piccolo walked to the side of the path but did not hide in the brush.

Soon following the saiyajins disappearance, the first horse galloped into view not ten yards away.  With a holler, the lead rider motioned the men behind him and heaved a sword from its hilt at his side.  Piccolo watched the man with a 'how did I know' look worming onto his face.    Five riders came to halt with brays from their horses and dust clouds.  Piccolo didn't move, only looked up at them in annoyance.

"Who are you?  What are you doing on these lands?"  The lead rider demanded, sword pointed at Piccolo's head. 

"My name is Piccolo and I'm a stranger here."  Piccolo gauged the man's ki and stifled a smile at how low it was.

"Strange you are…Oris, bind this creatures hands."  A rider in the back leapt down from his horse with a thick rope in his hands.  He stood just above Piccolo's waist and he was looking nervously up at the Namek.

"Hold out your hands."  The rider still seated on his horse jabbed the sword forward for emphasis.  Piccolo curled his lip and flashed a sharp, elongated k-nine down at the man with the rope.  He fidgeted as though preparing to flee with a whiney from the back of the group rang and men moved out of the way as a man clothed in black hide came forward.

"What is going on here?"  The new man asked, his shaggy black hair flipped across his shoulders as he looked between the men and a creature they had at knifepoint.

"I believe it's a new form of Orc.  Just look at him!  There is no one in Rivendell with his height or build.  Besides he admits he is a stranger to these lands."  

Piccolo watched silently still snarling at the small man in front of him as he squirmed.  The man in black was apparently the one in charge here.

"Being a stranger in these lands makes me worthy of being bound?"  Piccolo glared up at the new rider.  

The man looked a little startled to hear him speak at first, but quickly covered his surprise with a well-maintained mask of indifference.  If Piccolo hadn't known better, he would have thought this man a weathered warrior.  "Of course not."  He turned to the man beside him.  "Leave him be, he will come with us to Rivendell.  My father will see to his needs."  The man nodded and gave Piccolo a wavering look of distrust before kicking his heels into his horse's flanks and moving swiftly away.

"I apologize for my men.  All things that seem threatening in these parts are not taken lightly."  The man smiled slightly.

As the horses started past, Bulma ran from the trees and shrieked as she was nearly trampled.  The man closest was so startled he drew his sword and Bulma fell to the earth and covered her mouth with her hand.  Vegeta leapt down from his tree as the man in black dropped from his horse, he stood in front of Bulma and took a fighting stance.  He could hear Goku picking his ways through the trees and help Bulma to her feet.

Oris tripped over his own feet as Piccolo heaved him out of his way and ran to Vegeta's side.  

"Enough."  Piccolo looked at Goku, the young saiyajin's face was not pleased.  "We are with Piccolo.  We don't know where we are or how to get home."  The man in black frowned.

"What is Piccolo?"

The namek's face faulted.  "My name is Piccolo.  These are my…friends, Goku, Vegeta and Bulma."  Bulma blushed as the man took her hand and bowed lightly at the waist.

"I am known as Aragorn.  Please, come with me.  Rivendell is not far from here."  He smiled at them as he leapt easily onto his horse.

He held his hand down to Bulma and he effortlessly flipped her up behind him.  She chirped in surprise and clutched his waist.  The horse stepped sideways, adjusting to the new weight and Bulma shrieked and then giggled in embarrassment.  As they started off Bulma called out, "Wait!  Hold on!"

The precession ceased and Aragorn looked expectantly at her over his shoulder.  

"I have a…a machine in the woods over there.  It's very important that we have it!"  She looked at the men around her with large eyes.

"Where is it exactly?"

Bulma frowned.  "I'm not sure."

Goku stepped forward, "I do.  It's in the trees…maybe fifty feet that way."  He pointed off into the thick of the trees.  

Aragorn nodded.  "Oris, Isis, help this man retrieve his… 'machine' then return quickly to Rivendell.  We are already late."

Two men nodded, their features strikingly similar.  We would have learned later that the two were twins if we had stayed in Rivendell long enough to make their acquaintance.  Possibly even learn of how Isis got the scar along his jaw from a boyhood prank that had gone awry.  However, our story does not revolve around them and we will leave them in Rivendell to do as they please while our story continues.

Satisfied that they had what they needed, Bulma nodded her head and the group continued on.  Piccolo and Vegeta walking in the back and glaring daggers at the riders as they turned to stare or whisper about the new companions— both were horribly unamused with the situation.  Vegeta was ready to blast them when he slipped and barely caught his balance as he flailed his arms wildly.  Piccolo paused in his step to check then continued on so that Vegeta couldn't see him holding back a laugh.

Vegeta stepped forward and growled.  He had stepped in what appeared to be a mound of mud.  As he shook his foot, bits of it flew in all directions and he continued, now and then shaking his foot as he went.  A stench wafted up to his nose and he frowned as he looked at his boot then back at the mound.

"Smelly monkey."  Piccolo cracked, an evil smirk lighting on his face.  Vegeta glared at him and pushed him half-heartedly out of his way as he stalked ahead.

While Vegeta grumbled lightly to himself for a good twenty minutes, Piccolo gazed around him in awe and near rapture.  The land here was so clean and untouched by development and greasy motorized civilization.  The trees he saw towered feet over the largest trees he had seen in any forest on the Earth.  The closest thing he could imagine were the ancient Redwoods that grew so large and were now part of National parks and monuments.  As a looming castle slowly invaded the tree line a wave of drowsiness swept across him.  For once in a very long time he longed to nap and the idea of meditating in the massive forests made him tingle in anticipation.


	2. Welcome to Rivendell

The line of horses slowly stopped and Piccolo watched as beings moved about the towers and walkways.  They were very beautiful in appearance, as though they would shatter if a strong enough breeze blew across them.  They looked much like the ordinary humans he had seen for all his years on Earth with subtle differences but so many it left them on an entirely new palate.  Ears pointed into soft curves, a stark difference to his own that were sharp angles; pale skin that left him wondering whether they saw the sunlight for more than fifteen minutes a day; and fluid grace when compared to any man he could think of looked as though they were fumbling along on their legs.

Aragorn had come down off of his steed and helped Bulma to her feet.  Piccolo realized Vegeta was already halfway to his ex-wife and decided it best if he stayed with the group; he could enjoy the beauty of the woods later.  As he arrived, the three were talking quietly to a rather strict looking man with long auburn hair and an ornate silver headdress.  Piccolo stopped just outside their circle, not wanting to disrupt their conversation and hopefully pick up on what they were talking about.

"You are late." The strict man gazed down at Aragorn with frown.

Aragorn nodded and scratched the stubbly growth of his beard.  "I know but we found four lost in the forests near here.  They could use your attention, I know not whether they have injuries."  The man peered around him and nodded politely to Vegeta and Piccolo and bowed lightly to Bulma before looking again at Aragorn.

"Estel, these are but three… where is the fourth?"  Lord Elrond looked across the people gathered and saw only familiar faces.

"He is with a small party retrieving some of their belongings. They should be along shortly."  Aragorn looked over his shoulder to the entrance to see if they were coming, then turned back when the entry remained empty.

"Very well, but we are behind schedule."  Elrond looked up to the castle entrance at a man leaning on a staff dressed in heavy gray robes, a long beard and ashen hair draped across his front. " I will have someone show you to your rooms."  He nodded and ascended the stairs, Aragorn at his heels.  

Piccolo watched carefully as the man in gray folds talked quietly to them, low enough so that Piccolo only caught a light murmur.  As the man finished he turned and stared directly down at the trio that stood out sharply amongst the elves that walked freely around them.  He cocked his head lightly to one side and gazed directly down at Piccolo's prone form, a small smile curling his lip and lifting his heavy moustache slightly before he turned and followed the others into the heavy doors.

Piccolo's eye ridges furrowed and he rubbed thoughtfully at the base of one antenna as he contemplated what that look was supposed to mean.  Before he could get very far however, Goku's boisterous voice echoed into the court along with a chorus of hearty laughs and within moments the twins and Goku came through the entrance, Goku carrying the time machine on his back and hunched over, walking slowly with sweat dripping down the side of his face.  He caught sight of Vegeta and Piccolo and grinned widely, waving with one hand until the machine began to sway and he clamped it back onto the neon surface.

Goku set the machine down on the walkway and grinned at his friends, a fat bead of sweat rolled down his jaw.  "Hi guys!"  

Vegeta grunted.  "Well Kakkarot, you look a little tired."  

Goku scratched the back of his head and laughed.  "Well it's the damndest thing but when I was going to pick up the time machine and fly it back I couldn't."  

Vegeta's eyes widened.  "You aren't serious."  As if trying to refute Goku's idea he growled low in his throat as he tried to power up.  Piccolo watched in growing anxiety, there wasn't even a single spark.  Vegeta continued, his face growing a deepening shade of crimson, sweat began to bead along his forehead and dampened his temples.  

Piccolo couldn't understand why, this new place, he could sense the ki signatures around him then why couldn't they use their own ki?  Vegeta's energy fluxed lightly, but no sparks, no ripples, no flashes of gold.  Panting, Vegeta dropped his arms to his side and looked up at Goku incredulously.  

"What kind of place is this?"  Vegeta spat, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.  Elves around them stood transfixed as if waiting for the saiyajin to explode; in rage or in body we can't be sure.  

A clearing throat from behind made them turn.  An elf, slim with dark russet hair smiled sweetly at them.  She bowed at the waist and clasped her hands together.  "I am Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond, please allow me to show you to your rooms."  Goku grinned and followed obediently, Bulma and Vegeta falling into step behind.  Piccolo paused for a moment, looked back at the time machine and grunted before following the others into the towering building.

The halls were enormous and beautifully decorated in leafy plants and thick tapestries.  Goku openly gawked around him at the surroundings, pointing excitedly to whatever caught his fancy and elbowed Bulma or Vegeta, each taking it with a sigh and nodding at his ramblings.  Piccolo tried to linger behind a few paces to keep from being associated with the saiyajin who appeared to be gathering quite a bit of attention from the elves that walked the halls.  Arwen stopped beside a wide door and opened it, inside was a plush room with a bath, bed and several couches covered in plush pillows.  Bulma squealed in delight to find that the room was to be hers and told the men that she would see them later before slamming the door shut.  Halfway down the hall Piccolo could still hear her giggles of glee.

Goku disappeared shortly after Arwen had mentioned that the room to their left led to the kitchens, Vegeta apologized—Piccolo noticed how his speech had changed from the snappy short comments around Goku, to the full and rich language of the court –and followed Goku down the hall to the kitchens.  Piccolo rolled his eyes, leave it to the saiyajins to think of their stomachs before knowing about their surroundings.  Arwen smiled politely at him as they continued on their path.

"These two rooms here will belong to your friends when they are finished in the kitchens.  I only mention it in case you meet them again before I get the chance."  She smiled and turned her head quickly away.  Piccolo nodded and suppressed a snarl of annoyance.  He knew he was out of place even here in this new world but it didn't make the uncomfortable silence and awkward looks any easier to bear.

He heard her small exhale of relief as she paused before a door near the end of this seemingly endless hall.  She pushed it open and motioned him in.  "This will be your room for the duration of your stay.  I hope you find it comfortable."  She smiled politely, masking much of her discomfort.

"Thank you."  Piccolo entered, shutting the door quietly behind him and surveyed his surroundings.  The room was quite large, a poster bed with ornate carvings sat to one side, raised on a platform.  The walls looked of sandstone, a creamy tan with creeping vines scaling each wall.  A large, dark tan couch wound around one corner, an array of colorful pillows strewn across it.  But, Piccolo's favorite feature by far had to be the large bay windows, which he discovered much to his delight—though he would never admit it aloud—that they were really French-style doors.  Surrounding them were thick velvet drapes the color of wine; thin, white gauze sheets draped over the panes and flitted in the breeze as doors were opened.  They opened onto an impressive patio that overlooked the surrounding forest and he could see the glint of a river twining off to the west.  He stood against the marble railing and smiled down onto the rich garden below his feet.  

Perching on the railing, Piccolo balanced himself perfectly and sat lotus style, breathing deeply of the clean crisp air as it blew by him.  He set his chin to his chest and smirked as another breeze blew across his face.

He wasn't sure how long it had been, possibly less than an hour, maybe closer to two when he heard a knock on the door to his room.  He said nothing, slightly soured by the interruption of one of the best meditations he had ever had when the knock came again followed by the opening of the door.

Footsteps echoed along his room followed by a tentative, "_Kala?_"  Piccolo furrowed his brow and sat stone still, waiting to be found, not quite ready to give up the serenity of his spot just yet.  Apparently his intruder had noticed the open door and flapping curtains and soon a visitor was standing out on the patio along with a tranquil Piccolo.

"Excuse me for intruding, but Lord Elrond would like to see you."  The elf shifted on his feet.  Piccolo didn't move.  Setting a hand on Piccolo's shoulder the elf spoke quietly.  "_N'moina onnier?_"

"Yes, I'm coming."  Piccolo spoke low, his voice hiding his irritation as he unfurled his legs and stood on the balcony edge.  The elf looked up at him in awed shock and watched as he stepped down from the ledge and back into his room. 

Hurrying ahead, the elf opened the door and quickly escorted Piccolo back through the hallways he had walked through earlier.  He could sense Goku and Vegeta somewhere in front of him and finally spotted the back of Goku's head as he stood in a doorway surrounded by several elven women.  Piccolo saw Vegeta in the corner, frowning deeply with his arms clamped to his chest, anger seething from his eyes.  Piccolo smirked.

"Goku."  The women looked up a little surprised then scuttled away like fish in a pool after a stone has been cast in the center.  Goku smiled brightly.

"Hey Piccolo.  These people are so nice.  They say their elves isn't that neat?"  Piccolo said nothing and Vegeta snorted.  "I always thought elves were really short and worked with Santa!"  Goku beamed.

Piccolo's face faulted and Vegeta closed his eyes and shook his head.  Before he could be berated, Goku was saved when Lord Elrond entered from a side door followed by the man in gray that had watched Piccolo intently.  Now Elrond motioned them to sit.  Goku plopped into the nearest chair, grinning widely.  Vegeta sat down with grace and dignity, folding his hands in his lap, his back ramrod straight.  Piccolo entered further but remained standing.

The man draped in gray stepped forward, ran a hand through his beard and smiled warmly at them.  "My name is Gandalf the Gray."  He settled himself slowly into a large chair and crossed his legs at the ankle.  "I know that you are all here by some kind of accident.  Something that is quite difficult to explain in the terms you would normally use…however if you could try to enlighten me it would be my pleasure to help you find your way home."  He scratched his beard.

Goku's eyes brightened.  "Sure! Let me think for a second."  Vegeta snorted and Goku shot him a dirty look.  "Okay, it's like this…during an intentional idea to skip into an alternate time, we miscalculated and wound up here.  Now out means of getting back needs to be fixed or we can't return."

Vegeta's eyes widened and he looked at Goku with shock.  Goku blinked back at him, slightly puzzled at the drool pooling at the corners of Vegeta's mouth.  Piccolo smirked lightly.

Gandalf nodded his head sagely.  "I see.  So that thing you have brought with you…that is the device you need to fix?"  Goku nodded his head.  "Well, is there anything we can get you?"

Goku chewed on his lip for a moment.  "You really should ask Bulma, she's the one that works on technical things."  

Gandalf's eyes widened.  "The lady?"

Goku nodded, "Sure.  She's really good with things like that."

Gandalf looked to Elrond, the Lord nodded and motioned a servant to go to the lady's chambers.  Gandalf turned back to the trio and narrowed his eyes.  "Now, there is a more pressing matter that comes to attention.  Because of your disruption of this time, your services are needed for something very important." 

Goku's face stiffened, the boyish features disappearing as his war face was brought to the surface.  "Has our appearance caused some kind of rift?"

"No.  There is a war going on in Middle Earth.  Here, in this time.  For some reason, your threads have been weaved into it."  Gandalf looked at each of them in turn.  Piccolo's face was grave, eye ridges drawn down deeply, and a heavy frown pulling his lips together in a thin line.  Vegeta had narrowed his eyes, but other than that minute fact he hadn't moved.  Goku, however, looked excited.

"What are we part of exactly?"  Vegeta spoke up, eyeing Kakkarot as if he were going insane.

Gandalf motioned for them to stand and soon they left the small room and were lead down a small hall into a larger room where several beings sat looking as though the world were ending.  —Certainly we can not deprive them of that and commend them on only sitting quietly instead of screaming and ranting.—  As they entered, a few of them watched them with interest.  "These hobbits, dwarves, elves and men have volunteered to protect the One Ring and destroy it.  The ring takes control of men's minds and twists them to its evil whim.  It's only purpose to return to Sauromon, its evil creator."

Goku's eyes had widened but the story and its relevance had not been lost on him.  Vegeta frowned.  "So why don't you just destroy the thing now?"

Gandalf held up one crooked finger, "Ah, that's the thing.  It needs to be cast into the fires from which it was created.  The fires of Mordor to be exact."

Goku nodded and Vegeta scowled.  "So what is it?  Surrounded by demons?"  Gandalf nodded his head.  Vegeta turned to Piccolo and grinned.  "Well it looks like you'll fight right in."

Piccolo curled his lip, a sharp fang glinting in the low light.  "Watch it, monkey."

A boy stood from the circle of beings, blue eyes shining and clutching something on a chain in one small hand.  "You are a demon?"  He looked up at Piccolo's face, a line of fear wavering along his eyes.

"No."  Piccolo looked down, suddenly feeling overly protective of him.  "You have nothing to fear from me."  He smiled down at him, trying his best not to make it look threatening.

"Frodo, I do not want you to travel with people you fear."  Gandalf dipped his head, tugging at the end of his beard.

Frodo nodded his shaggy head and uncurled his hand, a golden ring sat in his palm.  Piccolo looked down at it with disinterest when a voice slowly twisted in his head.  A small hissing at first but it grew until he recognized words in the noise.  It nested in his head, feeling as though a pound of sledge had been shucked into his skull.  "_Take it._" The voice slurred.  "_Imagine what you could do with it.  You could rule as your father wanted.  Take his place as the strongest…rule the earth with a steadfast fist.  Come…just take it…he is offering it to you…if you don't take me the **monkey** will and then what will you do…_" the voice snaked and squirmed.  Piccolo's eyes widened and his lips curled up into a snarl.  Frodo shied away, still holding his arm out.  Suddenly, Piccolo grasped his head in both hands.

"Get out of my head!  I am nothing like my father!  GET OUT!"  Sweat dripped down the side of Piccolo's face and ran along his jaw.  He fell to one knee, growling deep.  The room of men sat up rigidly in their seats or stepped back, save for Goku and Vegeta.  Goku's face was stricken with worry and Vegeta looked like he didn't know if he should be scared or laughing.

Suddenly, as quickly as it had started, it stopped.  Piccolo looked up at his friends, beads of sweat dripping from his chin.  His head pounded as bad as it had when Gohan had played him a disk of flute music.  He stood, seeing Frodo still standing, now with his fingers curled protectively around the ring.  He was smiling up at him.

Piccolo stood, squaring his shoulders and looked across the room of men.  They all had breathed a sigh of relief but some were still staring at him with large eyes.  Piccolo frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.

Frodo smiled up at him.  "My name is Frodo.  I'm glad that you are coming with us."  He pointed over his shoulder to three other small ones.  "That is Sam, Merry and Pippin.  We are Hobbits."  Piccolo smiled down at him, a rush of calm cleaning the remains of contemptuous filth from his mind.  He suddenly thought of Gohan as a boy and he smiled again.

"My name is Piccolo."

Sam stepped forward, Merry and Pippin pushing him from behind.  "What are you, sir?  I mean if you don't mind my asking, it's just that we were curious.  We've never seen a creature like you before."  Sam looked at his feet and fiddled with the corner of his cape.

Piccolo looked to Merry and Pippin, both wouldn't meet his gaze.  "I'm a Namek."

Sam smiled a moment, "Oh…well then, I can't say I've ever heard of one of those before.  It's a pleasure to meet you, seeing as how you're on our side and all."  Piccolo nodded and Sam retreated quickly to his seat, Merry and Pippin flushing and quickly following behind.

Vegeta was grinning up at him when Piccolo turned around.  Piccolo narrowed his eyes and frowned.  Gandalf clapped him on the back warmly and walked a few paces further into the room.  "As you can see, we have a room full of strong, able bodied men to escort our brave Hobbit to his destiny.  I suggest you take some time to get to know one another before you leave at first light."

The group murmured a moment before Gandalf pulled out a chair.  "We shall start with the members that have been caught up in this plight."  He motioned to Goku who had chosen a chair closest to the wizard.  

"Well, my name's Goku."  He smiled brightly at everyone.  The hobbits smiled brightly back, the others smiling politely, some not at all.

The wizard motioned to Vegeta.  The Ouji frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.  Goku elbowed him in the ribs.  "Come on, 'Geta.  We're going with these guys you might as well know who they are."

Vegeta growled at him.  "Fine." He snapped.  "I am Vegeta, prince of all Saiyajins."  He scowled at Goku.  Piccolo snorted from his spot in the corner.

Aragorn's eyes brightened.  "A prince?  That would certainly explain your courtside manner.  We have another prince amongst our group as well."  Vegeta's eyes narrowed.  Aragorn motioned to an elf seated three seats down.  He sat rigidly, long flaxen hair combed back from his face.  He nodded politely.  "I am Legolas Green Leaf, Prince of Mirkwood." 

Goku smiled, "Wow, Vegeta he really looks like a Prince too."  Vegeta snorted and shot Legolas a dirty look.  Piccolo, not missing a thing smirked at the back of Vegeta's head.

Legolas smiled and thanked Goku for his compliment.  Piccolo could nearly see the hairs prickle on the back of Vegeta's neck as he bore holes into Legolas' skull with his eyes.

Aragorn saved the whole room much frustration and bloodshed as he continued.  "This would be Gimli, a deadly four feet when wielding an axe."  Gimli nodded, sitting a little straighter in his seat.  "The man there is Boromir, son of the King of Gloin."  

Vegeta's nose curled.  "Another prince then?"

Legolas shook his head, golden locks spilling across his shoulders.  "Aragorn is the rightful heir."  Aragorn gave Legolas a disdainful look and shrugged his large shoulders.  Vegeta sniffed.

Gandalf stood.  "Well, seeing as how the formalities are over, it would appear that it is time for supper."  Lord Elrond nodded and smiled lightly to the others as they stood.  Goku leapt up, rubbing his stomach and grinned.  

As they all filed out—Goku nearly leading them to the dining hall—Piccolo waited for them all to exit before following them quietly.  The dining hall was quite beautiful.  High cathedral ceilings were decorated with large chandeliers covered in flickering candles.  The drapes were drawn back from the high windows and a star-pricked sky shone dully through.  Everyone sat, Elrond at the head of the table, Goku practically drooling as the food was lain out.  The servants looked at each other and walked quickly back to the kitchen.  Piccolo snorted, it would seem that the saiyajins stomachs were already well-known.

As plates were passed, Piccolo denied everything that was passed to him with a shake of the head or holding a hand over his plate.  Legolas sat across from him and frowned.  "It isn't wise to start such a strenuous travel on an empty stomach."  Piccolo looked up at him, the usual slight frown on his face.

"I don't eat."

Legolas picked up his glass and took a long draught, eyeing Piccolo the entire time.  When he set his glass down he frowned.  "I don't know why you would think yourself needing to lose weight.  You have a lot of mass but I don't think an ounce of fat could be squeezed off of you."

Piccolo shook his head, his antennae swaying.  "You don't understand.  My race does not need to eat unless severely injured.  It helps speed up the metabolism."  Legolas' eyebrows rose in surprise but he smiled in understanding.

When a pitcher of water was set before him, Piccolo filled his glass and closed his eyes.  Everything else had been clean, crisp and pure; he couldn't help but wonder if the water would be the same.  Sniffing the water and swirling it in his cup like an expert of vineyards, Piccolo took a sip and grinned.  It was almost sinful.  He couldn't taste a single impurity.  When he opened his eyes most of the table was looking at him queerly.  Piccolo narrowed his eyes and frowned deeper, then took another sip.  He grinned again and nearly sighed, he didn't care if they stared at him for the rest of the night the water was just too damned good not to obsess over.  

Goku grinned around a mouthful of meat, "I know what you mean, Piccolo, everything here is so much fresher…it's like…" He paused, scratching his head.

Vegeta smirked.  "It's unspoiled, Kakkarot.  Everything is unspoiled."  Goku's eyes brightened and he nodded taking another large bite.  The rest of the room peered at them over their glasses, sniffing the water and taking tentative bites of the food.  Lord Elrond shook his head and finished his meal.

Lord Elrond bid them to try to get some sleep before the morning and smiled when Piccolo asked quietly if he could have a jug of water for his room.  "I'll send someone up with it shortly."

Piccolo nodded and began to leave when a curious thought struck him.  "Lord Elrond, could I visit the gardens?"  Lord Elrond nodded, smiling lightly again.

Legolas returned from the hall and paused.  "Lord Elrond, the Lady Bulma would like your council.  She seems…urgent."  Piccolo rolled his eyes, the woman was probably having a heart attack about how the women in the palace were treated.

"Of course, but first I must find someone to escort Piccolo to the gardens."  Legolas looked confused for a moment.  "Unless of course you wouldn't mind."  Legolas nodded his head.

"Certainly, Lord Elrond."  He motioned to Piccolo and walked quietly down the hall.  Piccolo followed obediently, craning his neck now and then gaze out at the stars through the windows.  He knew Legolas was watching him queerly from the corner of his eye but he no longer cared, he just wanted out in the open.  He had too much contact with people, more than he cared for and was itching to be free.

Several minutes of silence followed, save for the clicking of boots on the tile, and Piccolo began to think that going to the gardens was a waste of time, he could have been in his room in solitude by now looking down at it.  However, Legolas soon halted and pulled a large door open.  A rush of pleasant air swept across him and Piccolo took a deep breath and let it roll out of him in a slow growl.  Legolas tensed, then watched carefully as Piccolo stepped slowly out of the door and onto the walkway of the gardens.

Piccolo was soon oblivious to the world around him except for the lush vegetation and the clear, brilliant sky.  He walked leisurely around the gardens, stopping to scoop a handful of water from a fountain and taking a sip of the amazingly sweet water.  He touched leaves as he walked through, gently stroked foreign flower pedals with his finger pads and looked up into the alien sky.  He suddenly had the feeling he was being followed and paused, listening intently.

Legolas had been intrigued at how zombified the Namek had gotten and followed him soundlessly into the garden, leaping over low bushes and peaking around trees.  He felt ashamed to behave so rudely, but he was sure that Piccolo hadn't wanted company, and the being intrigued him.

Never had Legolas seen someone of his colors before, or his bulk for that matter.  Piccolo's impressive size had daunted many of the elves and Legolas had heard them speaking quietly in the halls.  They hadn't exactly been afraid, mostly curious and respectful of the alien's space.  And now after seeing him, Legolas could understand why.  He was very quiet, especially compared to his companions—mostly the tall brunette and the lady—and he didn't seem to enjoy being around people very much.  Not that Legolas could blame him after seeing the way that everyone had reacted upon first seeing him.  It must be tiresome to be whispered about and ogled after walking past a group of people.

"Alright, whoever is there, you may as well come out and join me."  Piccolo's deep gravely voice was quiet in the darkness and Legolas froze.  "There is no point in hiding."  Feeling as though he had treaded too far, Legolas turned to leave when a breeze and blur made his mind swim for a moment and he nearly walked into a broad green chest clothed in violet.

"How did you do that?" Legolas looked up at him, not afraid but more in awe.  The Namek had been near the fountain, some twenty feet away, he had just seen him standing there gazing at the stars.

Piccolo frowned, "A family secret.  What do you want?"

Legolas shrugged his shoulders and smiled up at him, then let it slip and frowned himself.  "I'm not entirely sure."

"If you've come to stare you can leave now.  You'll have plenty of opportunity to gawk at me all you want on the trip."  Legolas' smooth brow furrowed and Piccolo figured he had him pegged wrong.  "If you've come to talk you can save your breath."

Piccolo stepped out of his way and Legolas moved forward a few feet before pausing.  "I'm sorry to have intruded on your solitude.  It never truly crossed my mind, and I apologize."

Piccolo looked at him for several minutes.  "Forget about it."

Legolas took it as an apology accepted and motioned to the door.  "Would you like me to show you back to your room?"

Piccolo shook his head. "That's alright.  That's my balcony."  He pointed to it and Legolas laughed.

"You're going to fly up there?"  Piccolo didn't smile.  Legolas thought hard for a moment before asking tentatively,  "Can Namek's fly?"

Piccolo grinned.  "Some.  But not here."  Legolas pushed his hair back into place and was about to pose another question when Piccolo blurred again and he saw him half way up the wall, leaping from a gargoyle head and swinging up onto his balcony.  After staring in awe for a moment Legolas whistled lightly with his teeth and left the gardens.

Piccolo noticed the jug of water on a tabletop and brought it with him to the balcony.  He sat it on the floor close by before settling back onto the railing and turning his face up to the sky.

---------------------------

a/n: Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter.  I'm still working, slowly, but surely.  Feel free to drop in any comments or suggestions.

Ja ne!  

~Nnif -.-


	3. The Murder of a Tree

**Thanks again to those that reviewed, it really brightens my day and makes me want to write up something that much better.  Special thanks to Ela for helping me with some of the plot points and for reviewing.  And to Emerald Star –oddly enough, your review made me laugh because I had in fact written in Bulma's rant…and here it is.  Hope it's chock full of Bulma goodness.  ^-^

Anyway…on with the story. **

*~*~*~*

Bulma stalked back and forth, seething.  She hadn't been allowed to leave her room after the 'incident' and now she was going stir crazy.  Food had been brought to her and she had thrown the tray at the door, food had splattered across the floor and walls, speckling the beautiful couch.  At first she had smiled in triumph but as the time wore on and her stomach began to grumble she thought maybe she had made a mistake.  Okay, two mistakes.

Earlier that evening, Bulma had been talking animatedly to one of the maids about all that had transpired.  The elf, later known as Latinelin—Bulma had shortened the mouthful to Elin after the first hour—listened enthusiastically and giggled as Bulma described how her companions had looked in their tunics and leggings.  A guard had entered well into the third hour of girlish giggles and had talked harshly in elfish to the girl.  She had nodded respectfully and stalked quickly out of the door.  Bulma, furious at the elf for disrupting her gabfest and being repressive to her new found friend began to screech at him and beat at his chest with her fists when he looked as though he wasn't listening.

Of course, several more guards had entered and sat her on her bed while the guard filled them in on the details.  She was told not to leave her room and discovered that she couldn't even if she wanted when she had thrown the door open and two guards blocked her path.  They remained immovable even when she ran at them, only bouncing off and landing on her bottom with a stinging slap.  

She had demanded to speak to Lord Elrond at once, and that had been an hour ago.  Now, she was bubbling with anger again, and hungry—a deadly combination for any woman—and when Elrond finally showed she was going to give him a piece of her mind.

She didn't have to wait long, however, Lord Elrond knocked curtly on her door and opened it all in one fell swoop followed closely by the two guards and a maid—sadly not Elin—to clean the mess they had heard and seen as it flew between the crack under the door.

Bulma's mouth hung open, ready to scream when Elrond pulled the cover off of a tray she hadn't noticed when he had entered.  Piled high were breads, meats and fruit all looking so unbelievably tasty that Bulma had to swallow to keep from drooling on herself.  Elrond set the tray on a table and motioned for Bulma to sit, and only after she had, did he sit across from her and motioned the guards out.  

With the door shut and the maid cleaning the wall and doors, Elrond filled Bulma's glass with water and waited a moment for her to satiate her stomach before he spoke.  When she lean back from her plate, Bulma had a small smile flitting on her lips and a hand rested on her stomach.  Elrond smiled and motioned for the maid to remove the tray, pausing to remove a small bowl of fruit to set on the table, before she left.

"I hear that you would like to speak to me."  Lord Elrond poured himself a glass of water and took a slow sip.

Bulma nodded and crossed her arms over her chest.  "I've never in my life been so disgusted.  Haven't you heard of equal rights?  How dare you make that poor girl clean all day just because she's a woman?"

Elrond held up a hand and Bulma stopped talking.  "My good lady, Latinelin was not placed as a maid because she was a woman…she came to me looking for work and it was what I had to offer."  Bulma opened her mouth but Elrond cut her off.  "She had her choice of many tasks including cooking," Bulma frowned, "washing laundry," the frown deepend, "embroidery," her mouth opened, "or teaching the young ones archery."  The mouth snapped shut before opening again into an 'o'. 

"Teaching archery?"  Bulma's eyes were wide.

"Yes of course.  Latinelin is a very gifted archer but she found she had no patience to teach.  Neither had she the patience for embroidery or the knack for cooking."  Elrond smiled politely.

"Oh…"  Bulma had the good grace to blush slightly.

"There has been no harm done."  Elrond took another sip of water.  "Now, onto bigger things.  One of your companions, Goku, said that you were the one to speak to about the 'machine'."  Bulma's attention caught and she nodded.

"Yes, I designed it."  She smiled brightly.

"We gladly offer you assistance in whatever you will need to repair it while your friends are away."  

Bulma's smile widened, "That would be great…wait, where is Goku going?"

Elrond tugged lightly on his bottom lip.  "They are traveling to a distant place with a group of brave beings.  Their task is an important one."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa…all of them are leaving?  Even Piccolo?!"  Bulma's eyes went wide, her face draining of color.  "They can't leave me here!  They're my protection!"

Elrond patted her hand, "While you are here you are under my protection.  Believe me when I tell you that your friends are doing a very important thing for this place."

Bulma rolled her eyes and sighed.  "They're saving the world again?  Kami, can't we do anything without them being all noble and nearly killing themselves, I mean we don't even have any senzu beans here."

Elrond's face fell with confusion.  "Senzu beans?  What do you mean, 'saving the world again?'"

Bulma sighed. "Let me put it this way.  The three guys you've just recruited are the strongest beings in the universe.  They've killed a bunch of bad guys that you wouldn't even see in your worst nightmares.  I would say that you're chances of winning whatever you're problem is just got better by a hundred percent."

Elrond's eyes grew round.  He didn't know whether to believe the woman or not, but if what she said was true, then it seemed Middle Earth may not crumble under the forces of evil as soon as they all thought.

~~~

Morning's first light had already pulled Piccolo from his meditative sleep, too anxious to see the beauty of this world's sunrise.  He pulled himself onto the roof and climbed onto the top of the castle's highest peak, a fortress tower in the east, and fought against the wind that threatened to topple him.  He watched as the large sun rose slowly, stretching itself out of slumber across the entire eastern horizon.  No smog dirtied the fresh daylight, no towering buildings piercing its natural beauty, and Piccolo was rather pleased to have gone to all the trouble just to see it rise.

When he descended the building, he stopped on a balcony at least two stories higher than his own and watched as Vegeta and Goku stretched in a clearing normally used as the archery fields.  Elves had gathered around the edges, some wanting to catch sight of the guests they had heard about during the night, others simply curious to see hand-to-hand combat training.  Piccolo recognized a few of the heads that bobbed at the front of the crowd.  Lord Elrond and his daughter Arwen stood on a small stage – Piccolo assumed that it was meant for royalty to watch the games that took place on the field—and they were joined with Aragorn and Legolas.  The remainder of the Fellowship was strewn in the crowds, Gimli pushing his way through so that he may actually see what was happening came to rest beside the four Hobbits.

Vegeta continued to stretch as the crowd grew, but the turnout was ridiculous.  They were only going to warm up with an early morning spar before they left for whatever hell they were going to find, he wasn't putting on a damned circus show!  Goku smiled to the crowd, however, and didn't seem to be bothered by them in the least.  If anything he seemed ecstatic to have an audience.

"Gee, Vegeta, it's like fighting in the tournament!"  Goku beamed, waving to Lord Elrond and Gandalf who had managed to push his way through the throng to stand on the platform.  Gandalf raised his staff in greeting and stroked his beard with a long fingered hand.

"Enough talking."  Vegeta growled, taking an offensive stance.  Goku nodded sharply and clenched his fists into tight balls.  With a yell, Vegeta launched himself at Goku, aiming one fist for exposed ribs and preparing his knee for Goku's stomach.  Spinning out of the way, Goku smirked and on cue he grasped Vegeta by the knee and heaved him skyward and wrenched down, slamming Vegeta face-first into the packed earth.  Grunting, Vegeta spun and pushed himself onto his feet, starting a kick and instead double fisted Goku in the back of the neck as Goku prepared to block his leg.  Goku swung a low roundhouse, easily avoided by the agile Ouji and sent a swishing uppercut into empty space.  The back of his mind tingled and Goku sidestepped as a leg came into view where the right side of his chest had been nanoseconds before, Goku attempted to build a ball of ki and grunted in surprise when Vegeta knocked him halfway across the clearing with a solid punch to the jaw.

"There is no ki here, baka."  Vegeta smirked, already curling his lithe body into a ramming force.  Goku blinked and a quiet 'oh' slipped out before a thick shoulder caught him in the breastplate and knocked his breath out in a great whoosh.  Even before his second wind caught him, Goku had flipped himself from a back handspring and drove both of his feet into Vegeta's shoulder blades.  A cloud of dust and whine of a tree sent half of the crowd running as a large oak began to tumble forward.  As the tree landed with a solid crash, many of the elves were gasping in shock. 

Lord Elrond's mouth fell agape and he began to yell for assistance when a wiry form stalked through the settling earth, an 'end-all' scowl plastered to Vegeta's face.  Piccolo watched from his vantage point and shook his head before continuing to descend to the ground.  When he finally got through the crowds, he found himself on the ground beside the platform, staring out at Vegeta and Goku caught in a power struggle as they grappled at each other.

"Are they always like this?"  Piccolo recognized Aragorn's voice and looked up at him.

He shook his head.  "No, usually they take out whole forests."  Aragorn's face faulted and others around him stared in shock.

"That's impossible!"  Lord Elrond was gaping into the clearing and a murmur of confusion began to ripple along the crowd.  Piccolo watched Goku and Vegeta in their normal training, not sure of what the problem was.  "They've just disappeared!"

Piccolo snorted.  _Of course…_  "No they haven't.  If you look hard enough you can catch them now and then."  A plume of dust rose several yards away, then another only feet from the platform.  Aragorn shook his head, his shaggy hair flipping across his shoulders.  

"That's incredible."  He stared intently at the field, his eyes now and then jumping around the clearing catching snatches of Goku and Vegeta.  Many of the crowd could not see the saiyajin's as they continued, but those that could were so enthralled with what they saw that the remainder tried even harder to see.

Another hollow boom echoed and Piccolo watched as a thick elm, at least ten feet in diameter began to creak slowly toward the castle wall.  The height would certainly be enough to crash through the wall and maybe a good fifteen feet into the building.  Piccolo started, Elves jumping out of his way as he began to growl and stopped below the falling tree.  

"Get out of there, you'll be crushed!"  Legolas cried.  Arwen turned her face into Aragorn's shoulder and he covered the back of her head with one hand and stared in horror as the tree continued its plunge.  

"Get out of the way all of you!"  Piccolo's gravely voice boomed across the courtyard and echoed off of the stone walls.  Elves fled from the area with swift ease.  Piccolo looked up and held his arms as wide as he could, the elm falling into them.  Piccolo grunted, his knees buckling lightly and somewhere in the crowd a woman screamed.  Panting harshly, Piccolo began to snarl and the tree pressed on him no more.  The crowd was no longer trying in vain to see the saiyajin and instead watched in growing fascination at the Namek.  Piccolo stood erect, the tree coming with him and he peaked over his shoulder, it had stopped five feet from the top of the outer wall.  Crippled under the immense weight, Piccolo turned achingly slow until the tree no longer threatened the castle and rolled it off of one arm and it fell to the ground leaving a deep divot.

Goku and Vegeta were still in the throes of combat and Piccolo curled up his lip.  "HEY!"  Goku froze and mindlessly caught Vegeta's last punch in an open palm.  Vegeta turned, a look of irritation dancing on his face.  "If you two want to continue you're going to have to be more careful!"  Piccolo spat out, wiping bits of tree trunk, dirt and leaves from his tunic.

"What's wrong, Piccolo?"  Goku's voice was curious and his face was creased in worry.

"What's wrong?!  You almost crushed the castle with that tree!"  Piccolo pointed an accusing finger at the fallen elm, a play of rage slowly abating now that the rush of hormones to save the building were clearing from his blood stream.

Goku's face grew ashen and he scratched nervously at the back of his head.  "Oh, wow.  Geez, I'm really sorry, Piccolo.  I guess maybe we should stop now, huh?"  Piccolo closed his eyes momentarily and opened them.  Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and frowned.

"Thanks a lot, Namek.  Now I can't even get a good spar in this accursed place."  

Piccolo fought the urge to shake Vegeta and smiled sweetly at him, "Only to piss you off, Vegeta."

Vegeta stalked from the field, an aisle forming for him as the elves moved from his path.  Goku walked toward Piccolo, the Namek meeting him half way.  They continued in silence as they walked to the platform where Lord Elrond was watching them, now composed –at least on the outside.  We are good to remember, it is the appearance of a king that calms his people during any time of duress—and the whole of the Fellowship stood with him.  

The crowd was beginning to disburse, watching the duo incredulously as they went back to their normal tasks.  "I must say that was quite an impressive feat."  Gandalf looked down on them over his crooked nose.  Goku smiled brightly and Piccolo merely grunted, crossing his arms over his chest.  Gandalf straightened and looked at those around him.  "I dare say it's time to gather provisions and begin our voyage.  We have far to go and it will be treacherous."  Several heads nodded in agreement and the Fellowship broke into small groups bound for their rooms to gather what they may need.

Piccolo and Goku walked through the hall, Elves standing to the side and watching them pass with quiet awe.  Piccolo detested it, the gaping was worse than the whispers.  They had nothing in this "Middle Earth" to bring with them, but Lord Elrond had set aside packs for them containing bedrolls, a change of clothing and various items that may come in handy.  Currently the two were headed to Bulma's chambers to make a chaste goodbye.  

~~~

Bulma clutched a handkerchief in one hand, tears shimmering in her eyes.  Vegeta was leaning against one wall, arms crossed over his chest.  He had come directly here after leaving the fields, knowing full well that the company was going to leave soon.  After a quick, 'we're leaving now' speech, he stood and waited for Kakkarot and the Namek to show up so that the woman would stop crying.  Fortunately for him, they arrived not five minutes later with leather satchels in their hands.

Goku dropped one of the bags Vegeta's feet and set his own by the table as he patted Bulma's back.  She latched onto him with large watery sobs and finally drew away with wet eyes and firm look on her face.  "Now listen up you guys, there is NO way you're going to leave me here in this place.  So nobody dies, got it?"  Her lower lip trembled but her face remained lividly serious.

Goku grinned, "Of course we'll be back Bulma.  Don't worry."  He flipped the satchel onto his shoulder and wiped a tear off of her cheek with his thumb.

Bulma watched as the three left and shut the door softly behind them.  She raced to it and threw it open, not noticing the elves that had stopped in surprise.  "If you die, I swear I will never talk to you again!"  She turned and kicked her door shut before flopping onto her bed and hugging a pillow tight to her chest.

Roughly ten minutes had passed and she still she lay.  A soft knock and a clearing throat finally made her sit, shoulders slumped and eyes puffy.  Lord Elrond stood in her doorway, a thin, sympathetic smile on his lips.  

"Haven't you heard of knocking?"  Bulma scowled.

"I did.  I'm sorry to have disturbed you, I'll return later."  Elrond dipped his head in apology and retreated.  He had nearly closed the door when he heard Bulma utter a quiet, 'wait'.  He slipped back into the room and quirked an eyebrow in question.  Bulma looked slightly surprised that he had heard her but motioned him to come in.

Lord Elrond sat at the table, folding his hands in his lap.  "You're friends are very brave to aid us at this point in history.  Middle Earth is on the verge of dying."

Bulma sighed dramatically and dropped backward onto the bed.  "It's nothing new.  That's what they do."  She picked up her head and saw Lord Elrond with a curious look on his face and she sighed again.  "They're warriors you know, the strongest beings in the Universe…well our Universe."

Lord Elrond nodded even though Bulma couldn't see him.  He had seen a small testament to that fact not half an hour earlier.  He watched as the woman wiped at her eyes again with her hands and frowned.  He was never good with emotions, least of all women's emotions.  Elrond stood.  "Milady, would it please you to join me for breakfast.  Then I may help you gather what you need for your…er…machine."

Bulma sat up quickly, a large smile on her face before it fell into deep thought.  She took Elrond's arm and followed him to the dining hall, her analytical mind pensively tracing the wiring of the time machine and what she had done wrong.

----------------------------

a/n: review?  Please???  O.o;;

~Nnif -.-


	4. The Journey Begins On a Wavering Foot

Again, thanks are in order for all the reviewers.  *beams proudly*  Ela, I'm taking into consideration your idea of a Legolas/Piccolo pairing…it had been my intention at the first creation of the story but I wasn't sure…I'm still thinking about it, it is still a possibility.  And to KitKat whom has been adamantly reviewing many of my works and I am very grateful. *cheesy grin*

Anyway, on with the story before Sandra Lindblom makes good on her threat of blue ants….0.o

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They had been walking for some time, the scenery barely changing around them as the trees only gave way to small clearings and even more trees.  The Hobbit's were walking in a small group, Gandalf a pace behind them, Aragorn, Boromir and Legolas a few feet ahead of them.  Gimli, for all his stature was going along quite well, a step behind the group of men—and elf—and was animatedly in on whatever they were discussing.

Behind the line of would be saviors, Goku was trying his best to get Vegeta out of his ill mood.  Piccolo walked at the end of the line, sharp ears easily picking up on anything that would be following them and enjoying his relative solitude while laughing to himself at Goku's pathetic attempts of humor and Vegeta's horrid stubbornness.  

"Come on 'Geta, at least smirk." Goku pleaded, looking down at the small Ouji with large puppy eyes.  Vegeta refused to look at him though and their power was lost on him.  Goku scratched his head and stuck his tongue out the corner of his mouth in thought.  His face brightened, "Hey, 'Geta, did I tell you the joke about the elephant?"

Vegeta snorted, "Which one Kakkarot? The one with the peanut butter or the one about what to do if it comes in your room?"

Goku scratched his head.  "I've never heard of the elephant joke being in my room…"

Vegeta looked up at him, his lip twitching as he tried not to smirk.  "Alright then Kakkarot, what do you do if an elephant comes in your room?"

Goku walked in contemplative silence for a while, their continual bicker had caught the attention of the Hobbits and Gandalf.  The men had looked back but Piccolo wasn't sure if they had heard the joke or not.

"Geez, I don't know."  

Vegeta smirked and narrowed his eyes.  "Swim."  

Goku's face remained placid, "I don't get it."  The Hobbits, Merry and Pippin, were covering their mouths as they tried not to burst out in guffaws.  Gandalf shook his head and kept in stride.  Piccolo mentally groaned and tried his best to shut them out.

They were coming through another clearing and Piccolo could hear the Hobbits grumbling about missing second breakfast.  Aragorn called for a short rest but refused the Hobbits to cook.  

Piccolo stood leaning against a tree, enjoying the breeze that wound through the pasture.  Everyone sat in a rough circle, Vegeta turned mostly away from everyone.  Piccolo snorted as he saw Vegeta fight off color in his face as Goku handed him a chunk of bread from his pack and wipe a smudge of dirt off of his cheek.  If the two didn't hurry up and admit something he was going to knock them both in the head and superglue their limbs together—that is if he could find superglue on Middle Earth.

Aragorn offered part of his rations to the group, then to Piccolo but he refused.  Piccolo studied the faces of the group silently.  Aragorn had the look and movement of a born leader, one that either denied his heritage or didn't know.  The man had the grace of a warrior, Piccolo decided that his first impressions had been correct, even if he denied them out of annoyance.  Boromir sat next to Aragorn, a chunk of bread in his hand and a canteen in the other.  He nodded and smiled to the others, a normal looking man and he had the attitude of a fighter but there was something with him that set Piccolo uneasy.  

The Hobbits, each of them so different from the other, all reminded him of Gohan when he was a boy.  Piccolo watched as Merry and Pippin began to argue and then wrestle on the ground before falling away from each other laughing.  Sam sat close to Frodo, the two sharing quiet conversation.  Frodo too reminded him of Gohan, but it was the Gohan who had earned his degree.  No longer the happy bubbly boy, but the quiet, introverted man he had become.  Either way, all four of the Hobbits didn't need to worry, Piccolo had already vowed to himself that no harm would come to them.  They were the innocents of the group and he wasn't about to allow Hell's fields to snuff out their candles before they were burnt.  –Of course, we already know the tale of the little Hobbits, and even though they struggle and grow separated, they come out with their wicks intact.  However, we won't let Piccolo know and maybe find a way to comfort his anger when the time comes.

Gimli and Legolas sat in companionable silence, well that on the part of Legolas anyway.  Gimli was scratching his thick beard and regaling stories of the mines of his home.  Legolas smiled and nodded his head, now and then throwing in a comment that had the dwarf sputtering in shock while the Elf laughed lightly and thumped Gimli on the back.  

The light whistle of the wind through the trees broke Piccolo's reverie and he turned his face to the breeze.  The smell of clean water was caught along with it and Piccolo tilted his head as he listened.  Somewhere far into the trees a stream ran bubbling along rocks.  Torn between staying leaning into a tree or tracing the sound and catching a mouthful of that cool water, Piccolo decided to leave the tree and follow what his throat was calling for.

The stream wasn't as far as he had first thought, the trees blocking much of the sound led Piccolo to believe it was farther away.  The little rivulet wound cheerily between the trees, gurgling and churning in complete bliss.  Piccolo knelt and scooped a handful, and followed it with a second.  He didn't think he would get over how deliciously crisp the water was here and he prayed that he never would.  

A twig snapped behind him and to the left, Piccolo blurred and snarled down at his stalker, a pale neck in his thick hand.  Piccolo blinked and frowned, dropping his hand.  "What are you doing out here?"  Legolas rubbed a hand across his throat and frowned at the light bruising already starting.

"I came to fetch you.  We're ready to move on."  Legolas ceased rubbing the sore chords of his neck and followed Piccolo back through the trees.  "How did you know of that brook?"

Piccolo grunted, pushing a branch from his face and let it snap back and looked down guiltily at Legolas as he ducked it while it sprang back and forth.  "I was thirsty and I heard it."

Piccolo held a branch back and let if free after Legolas had stepped by him.  "So you have excellent hearing as well."  

Piccolo nodded.  "Yes.  The Saiyajins do too, just not as heightened."  Legolas' face screwed up in confusion.

"Saiyajins?"

"Goku and Vegeta's race."  Legolas nodded, remembering the Ouji's exclamation of being the Prince of all Saiyajins.

"Are there many different races in your world?"  Legolas inadvertently touched the bruise on his neck again.

"Not on one planet.  Goku was raised there, but Vegeta just showed up."  Piccolo watched as Legolas prodded his neck with his fingertips and frowned.

"So they are all like you then?"  Legolas saw Piccolo tense.  "I do not mean to be bothersome.  I will leave you to your peace."  

There was silence for a few moments except for the sound of feet on leaves and the growing sound of the voices of the Fellowship as they waited the return of their two companions.  Piccolo spoke quietly—had Legolas not had elfish hearing he would have missed it.  "No." 

Piccolo looked over his shoulder and saw that Legolas was listening to him, even though he didn't speak.  Piccolo watched his feet, "My race lived on another planet."  Legolas stepped a little quicker and walked beside him to catch the tale.  "It was destroyed years ago by a maniacal beast."  Legolas eyes widened at the snarl and low growl of anger from his companion.  "Goku came to my planet and fought him, eventually killed him, but it was too late, the planet was destroyed.  My kind was wished to Earth before it happened and now they live on a new one far from Earth."

Legolas had a little trouble following the story and assumed he had gotten a greatly abridged version but he had a feeling that he was lucky to have gotten what little he had.  They exited into the clearing and the group seemed to breath a collective sigh of relief.  Aragorn waved Legolas over and the group began its slow progress through the trees.  

Goku watched Piccolo as he plodded behind them, the Namek looked a little detached.  "Hey, Piccolo.  You okay?" 

An emerald face looked down slowly, Piccolo's ebony eyes blinked unhurriedly and he looked ahead again.  "I'm fine."

Legolas had caught the question and looked over his shoulder.  The green giant was gazing far away, lost in his own thoughts.  He looked torn between getting angry or remaining sullen.  Legolas frowned and faced forward again.

Aragorn looked over to the elf and saw the blue discoloration on his neck and frowned, "Legolas, how did you get those bruises?"

Legolas waved a hand in dismissal, "It was nothing."  Aragorn watched him wearily for a minute longer before accepting his friend's answer.  Legolas looked over his shoulder again and saw Piccolo had dropped farther behind the group, taking up his usual position, and from the look on his face it appeared that anger had won the battle.

As night reached them, the Fellowship had exited the woods of Rivendell by several miles and was crossing pastures and fields as they bound for Mordor.  Legolas had run ahead, scouting the area for anything suspicious before they settled.  On his return he saw that a fire had been built and a few of the bedrolls had already been lain out though none had an owner.  

"There is nothing on the horizon, we should be fine for the night."  Legolas reported.  Aragorn nodded and thanked him then offered the elf a seat near the fire.  Legolas perched on his bag, the bedroll still wound tight made a rather comfortable seat.  Everyone was sitting, talking amiably.  Goku and Vegeta were missing, a little shock ran through Aragorn's head at how they could have lost the two but Piccolo put his mind at ease when he told they had gone hunting.

"They had best be safe, there are many dangers in the forests at night."  Aragorn pulled a piece of bread from his bag and bit a chunk off.  The food was good enough, but he wouldn't have minded going hunting himself.

The firelight deepened the shade of bruises on Legolas neck and the others would catch themselves staring at it now and then even though they were not conversing with Legolas.  Growing weary of the looks, Legolas instead lay back and watched the stars for some time.  A deep rumble brought him to his feet and he simultaneously pulled up his bow and notched an arrow.  Everyone was looking at him in surprise and he lowered his weapon, confused.  Piccolo was looking up at him from his seat by the fire, a glint of humor in his eyes.

"I didn't mean to startle you."  He smirked, one sharp eyetooth glinting with firelight.  

Legolas glowered as he sat on his pack again.  The circle laughed and clapped Legolas on the back.  Aragorn wiped a tear from his eye and smiled heartily at him.  "I dare say we were shocked as well, however it helps to see what is going on around you before shooting off arrows."

Legolas was still confused but smiled warily back at everyone and paid attention.  Piccolo was seated with the Hobbit's, the little ones still a little apprehensive of his appearance, but readily accepting him as one of the good guys after their first meeting, had finally ground down his resolve so that they could share stories of the Shire with him.  Piccolo had grudgingly sat and listened to their chatter but realized that even though they were the size of children they were adults and even though they alluded to the innocence of youth, had plenty of hearty tales to tell.  It had been in the middle of one of the tales, Merry rattling off a chain of events that had happened during a harvest celebration years ago had Pippin glowing in embarrassment with eyes wide in horror of what his friend was going tell a group of strangers.  Pippin had leapt from his bedroll, grappling with Merry and grunting out reasons why he couldn't finish his story while giving hopelessly bad excuses for his actions.  Mirth had built in Piccolo's stomach and he had grinned during the tale and now with the two nearly in death throes he couldn't stop himself and let out a deep laugh.

The scuffle between the Hobbits was forgotten as soon as the sound ripped from him, the circle of companions staring in surprised shock before realizing it was the alien's laugh and began to laugh themselves over the childish Hobbits when Legolas had leapt from his position in fright aiming to kill the Orc he thought he had heard.

Piccolo let out another deep chuckle and Legolas shook his head, rather embarrassed for acting so stupidly, the others wouldn't let him sulk however, they had complimented him on his quick reflexes and thanked Valar he was on their side.

Nearly an hour had passed and Aragorn was watching the tree line, growing worried about the missing saiyajins when a huge shadow came lumbering through the trees.   It was grunting and heaving, the warriors came quickly to their feet—all save Piccolo who was now being used as a shield by the four Hobbits that cowered behind him.  The beast came to a halt just outside of the firelight and the warriors all had their respective weapons at the ready when the thing shuddered and fell apart.  Stepping back in horror, they watched as a much smaller being stood from the mess and walked forward.  When the firelight finally reflected in large pupils and upswept hair, they breathed a sigh of relief and sheathed their swords, axes and bows.

Vegeta squinted at the light while his pupils shrank.  He smirked at them, "Anyone hungry?"  He walked back to the pile of beasts and pulled a couple to the circle, the warriors all grinning broadly at the hogs and rabbits that were dropped one after the other by their side.  Aragorn and Boromir quickly set to skinning the animals and getting them ready for roasting when someone mentioned Goku.  Vegeta grunted and sat, taking a skinned animal and skewering it.  "He wanted fish the baka."

Delicious smells were wafting through the air, leaving everyone drooling in anticipation of meat when Piccolo heard Goku struggling through the woods.  "Goku's coming."  Vegeta grunted.

"I know.  I was hoping this would be done before his blasted fish showed up."  Vegeta stabbed at the meat, frowning at how much longer it needed to be cooked.

"I don't know why you've gotten so many.  We won't be able to carry it with us."  Aragorn inhaled deeply.

Vegeta snorted.  "There won't be any by the morning."  Boromir's eyes widened.  "Besides, you're lucky I brought anything back for you at all.  You'll have to thank Kakkarot when he returns."

Boromir was blowing gently on his burnt fingers after pulling a chunk of hare from its stick.  "Why do you call him Kakkarot, I thought his name was Goku?"

Vegeta crossed his arms and huffed.  "Kakkarot is his rightful saiyajin name, the weak earthlings call him _Goku_."  Piccolo smirked as he watched Vegeta's lip curl in distaste at the Earth name.  The others nodded, at least understanding as much as they needed to.  

Vegeta was pulling the hogs from the spit as Goku came crashing through the trees with a gigantic fish on his back.  He was soaking wet and grinning like the Cheshire cat.   Vegeta's eyes widend a moment before he started barking out insults.  "Dammit Kakkarot quit dripping on me!  What's wrong with you baka?"

Goku sat with a thump and drove a stick through his huge fish and set it to the spit.  The men took in its size with large eyes and whistled through their teeth.  Goku smiled brightly and turned it slowly.  Conversation was pretty much nonexistent as mouths chewed through the beasts that were cooked to perfection.  Piccolo took the opportunity to escape from the Hobbits and sat a couple yards from the ring of people to fold his legs beneath him and meditate.  The silence, combined with the clear air and vibrant nature soon had him lulled into his mind, flashes of their arrival spinning lazily through his psyche.  When he came back into reality, it was nearing dawn and the sun was pulling its bulk over the lip of the horizon.  A quiet rustle of leaves from the right had Piccolo's riveted attention but he recognized the new ki signal and watched as Legolas stepped from the trees and leapt with smooth agility into the lower limbs to sit and wait for the others to rouse.

Piccolo stood, not gaining the elf's attention and stretched himself slowly.  The usually brisk air had an undertone scent that sent a small chill down Piccolo's spine and he frowned as he turned to the southeast.  Smoke was curling, barely visible in the distance.  Piccolo's eye ridges furrowed and he grunted, he would bet dollars to donuts that was Mordor.

Pushing it from his mind, Piccolo finished his stretch and began to move through a rather simple kata to get the blood flowing through his limbs.  He hadn't had a spar in some weeks and he knew he wasn't going to get one while he was here, but battle was inevitable and he was going to remain prepared.  After a few small faults that any other person would never have seen, Piccolo growled low in annoyance and tightened his reserve before diving back into it with his entire concentration.

Legolas was staring into the horizon, frowning at the red hues that were pooling around the bulb of the sun.  The others were stirring slowly and would soon wake.  Rubbing absent-mindedly at his throat, Legolas caught movement from the corner of his eye and turned his head with intense lethargy.  To an observer he would have looked like a statue just coming to life and testing his joints.  His eyes rested on Piccolo, the Namek was soundlessly moving through a series of complicated moves with implausible quickness.  First he was on his hands, feet in the air, spinning harshly on the heel of one hand and jabbing into the thin air with his heels, then balancing his weight over splayed legs, moving his arms with blurring speed and fists the size of large hams clenched tightly.  Piccolo's antennae swayed with the movements and he stared fixedly at a spot in the distance as he continued his deadly dance.  

The others were sitting up, groaning and stretching the kinks from their backs with small pops and squeaking joints.  The Hobbits sat quietly, chewing on the scraps from last night's meal while they watched their new guardian.  Frodo elbowed Sam, Sam elbowing Merry and Merry elbowing Pippin.  Then all nodded to each other with large eyes and took another bite.

Gimli stopped snoring and sat up with a jerk as though someone had stuck him with a pin.  He scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands and scratched at his beard.  He shook his head at the Namek and set to picking up his bedroll.  Vegeta groaned as he rolled over and bumped into Kakkarot who had fallen asleep beside him, he grinned to himself but sat up with a furious look on his face.  He poked Kakkarot in the ribs and smirked as he sat up quickly.

"…I'm up Chi…honest…" Goku grumbled to himself.  Vegeta growled and buried his fist in the man's ribs.  Goku yelped in pain and jumped to his feet.  "Oh, morning 'Geta." He smiled sleepily and rubbed at his eyes.  Vegeta snorted.  He could see the Namek running through his kata and he grinned.  He hadn't sparred with Piccolo for a very long time, and he wouldn't now but he decided to test just how well the Namek had kept up in his training.

Walking soundlessly to the edge of the men's groggy circle, Vegeta double fisted his hands and charged at Piccolo, bringing his fists high above his head as he leapt at him.  Legolas watched in shock, not understanding why Vegeta would attack his friend, and was going to cry out but it would be too late either way.  Instead he watched with mouth clenched tightly shut.

Piccolo had his back to Vegeta as he sent punches at an invisible enemy.  A prickle at the back of his mind gave him seconds to respond and he ducked quickly out of the way and blurred, grabbing his attacker by the wrist and flinging him into the ground.  Vegeta grinned and turned in the air, landing on the balls of his feet and flung himself at Piccolo again.  Piccolo's eyes narrowed as he recognized the Ouji and was partly thankful that they didn't have any ki use here.  

The group had all been alerted to what was happening and stood watching, partly in awe of the speed and agility, partly wishing they would stop so they could get moving.  Piccolo had no intention of turning this into a spar.  He could sense the agitation of Gandalf over everything else, it made him angry that the wizard was irritated with him when all he was doing was a morning kata while everyone was still sleeping, but he understood that this was wasting precious time.  Piccolo stood stone still, not bothering to block Vegeta's coming punch or reciprocate.  Vegeta realized this and was annoyed but didn't stop himself.  The punch came, connecting with Piccolo's jaw and sending him flying twenty feet into the clearing.

Piccolo stood, wiping the trickle of blood from his lip with the back of his hand.  Vegeta had crossed his arms over his chest.  "What's the matter, Namek?  Knew that you would lose and just gave up?"  He smirked.

Piccolo grunted.  "No.  We have more important things to do than beat each other senseless.  You of all people should know that time is important, especially when it's short."  Piccolo began to stuff things into his satchel, the group was eerily quiet and Legolas came down from his perch.

"What's that supposed to mean?"  Vegeta came forward, snatching his bag from Goku's outstretched hand.

Piccolo swung his bag onto his shoulder.  "You weren't given a chance to save your people because some tyrant stole you away.  These people are fighting to save their planet.  If you don't want to help get the hell out of the way."  Piccolo looked down on the Ouji with narrowed eyes.  He could see by the look on Vegeta's face that he may have pushed just a little too far, but Goku set his hand on Vegeta's shoulder and turned him away before he could lash out.

"Come on, Vegeta.  Piccolo's right, we're here to help.  This could be your chance to save a planet of people that need you."  Goku looked down at the prince, his face solemn.  Vegeta nodded his head once and shouldered his pack before sitting under a tree facing away from everyone.

Goku sighed and turned to the rest of the Fellowship with a sad smile.  "Well, I guess we'd better get going, huh?"  Goku looked up at Piccolo and his swelling lip.  "Did that hurt?"  He smiled brighter, coming back to himself.

Piccolo looked at Goku then to Vegeta, he knew the Ouji could hear from that distance and as much as he didn't want to give Vegeta a pride boost, he didn't want to deal with a cranky Vegeta for the rest of this trial.  "Hurt like hell."  Piccolo heard Vegeta snort and knew things would be better by the afternoon.

With the fire safely put out the group trudged on, Piccolo now and then tonguing the split in his lip with his purple tongue.  Much of the travel consisted of Piccolo listening to the Hobbit's babble about what they would do when they returned to the Shire, or grumbling about being hungry. Piccolo even paused their talk once by offering them what Elrond had packed for food in his satchel.  They had grinned widely at him and accepted the jerky.  He only grunted at their thanks but as he dropped back to his place he smiled at the back of their heads.  By afternoon, the Hobbits were complaining more of aching—mostly Merry and Pippin—and Aragorn called for a rest.  They were at the base of a mountain, staring up at it, trying to see its peak in the swirling clouds.  They broke out rations and munched happily until looking up the towering peak and sighed.  Piccolo sat back, trying to envision what the temperatures would be like on the top, it wouldn't be the first time he had been in the cold.  Hell he had been frozen in a glacier in the arctic at one point, he was simply looking out for the best interest of Frodo—in all actuality our dear Namek was pointedly worried about all of the Hobbits but wouldn't let himself be swayed to think that he cared about them, just the mission they were on.

Legolas stood atop a small hill and gazed at the land they had come through.  So far they hadn't come across a single Orc, not that he was disappointed.

"_Mani um dos edhel eleea elei_?"  Aragorn called up to him.  He smiled down at him and strode quickly to the bottom.

"_N'uma'nat'_."  Aragorn nodded his shaggy head and smiled.

"Rest a while.  We're going to cross the mountain before this day is done."  Legolas nodded his head.  He climbed into a nearby tree, letting one leg dangle and pulled a slab of jerky from his pack.  He chewed on it slowly, looking up into the mountain.  The tree shook lightly and Legolas looked down to see Piccolo had sat heavily underneath it, legs tucked neatly beneath him and arms crossed over his chest.  Legolas stared at the top of his head while he ate.  The Namek confused him but he thought he might understand why.  Piccolo was tough, a hard character, showing no emotion and remaining an intimidating figure.  However when he thought no one was looking, his façade cracked and he would smile, laugh or show pain.  But, being a warrior didn't allow for emotion, it was a weakness to allow the enemy to see what you cared about.

Piccolo had cocked his head lightly to one side as the breeze picked up.  Legolas himself listened and heard the trees talking lightly to one another.  He wondered if the Namek could hear them as well.  Finishing the rest of his jerky, Legolas dropped quietly down beside Piccolo and jumped out of his reach when he came to with a start.  Legolas smiled down at him.  Piccolo realized he had inadvertently plopped himself in the others solitude and did not berate Legolas for popping out of nowhere.

Legolas sat down beside him and turned his head into the wind.  "You hear them, don't you?"  Piccolo looked at him queerly.

"Hear who?"

"The trees."  Legolas opened his eyes and looked over at the Namek.  When he saw the open confusion on his face he laughed.  "You turn your head into the wind.  I just assumed you could hear them."

Piccolo tilted his head again and strained, he could have sworn he had heard a whispering voice but he pushed it aside.  The elf was probably insane.

"It takes a little practice.  But the trees can tell you many things you may not see coming."  Legolas pointed to the clouds at the far horizon.  "They say that cold rain is coming.  That means it will be snowing on the mountain when we climb."

Piccolo snorted.  "You expect me to believe that.  At that altitude, it is always snowing.  You'll have to do better than that."

Legolas smirked and nodded.  He listened into the wind again.  "They tell me…" He paused and looked at the Namek from the corner of his eye, Piccolo was patiently waiting.  "You are nothing but a softhearted giant."  Piccolo stiffened and narrowed his eyes.  "And that you wouldn't hit an elf that was only trying to make conversation."

Legolas held his breath and waited for the blow that was sure to come.  Instead he heard Piccolo laugh softly to himself—if he hadn't an elf's hearing he would have missed it—and grinned.  Piccolo pushed him playfully but Legolas toppled over anyway.  Aragorn stood quickly thinking another scuffle had broken out and would be damned if it would continue.  Legolas quickly got to his feet laughing.  Aragorn sat down again and frowned, still unsure.  Legolas stood in the breeze and tilted his head again.

Piccolo watched as the wind and sun played along Legolas' golden hair and frowned in spite of himself.   The elf was being friendly, trying to take off some of the pressure of the forced join.  Piccolo pondered that for a moment and decided that their going with the Fellowship wasn't forced, even if they had been given a stark choice they would have gone for the adventure and chance for a fight.  Goku wouldn't have allowed them to get out of helping anyone defeat a threatening evil.  The elf himself was amiable and likeable enough; Piccolo denied that he was actually quite happy to bump into him from time to time.  Legolas seemed to know when Piccolo would rather be alone and pensive—which was more often than not—but whenever Piccolo wouldn't entirely mind company, Legolas would slow a bit from the rest and walk silently beside him for a moment before rejoining the men at the front.  He could tell the elf wanted to know more about his heritage, but Piccolo was unsure of whether he should bother to divulge the information.

Legolas frowned deeply and the breeze stopped.  Piccolo looked away, his little trance broken and watched as the Hobbits jostled each other and laughed heartily.  Gandalf was looking at him again, boring holes into his head with his intense gaze.  Piccolo wanted to shake the old man and make him spit out whatever it was that he was seeing whenever he got that way, but he was afraid the wizard would fall apart beneath his fingers.

A squeal so loud it nearly shook the earth beneath them caused a great uproar among the folk of Middle Earth.  "Hide quickly!"  Aragorn shouted at them.  Gimli and Boromir were already launching themselves under a great rock outcrop, pushing themselves deep into the hollows.  Goku and Vegeta did as they were told, following the others under the canopy of shale with confused looks on their faces.  Piccolo and Legolas were running at the first sound, Piccolo swooping down and scooping two of the slower Hobbits under his arms and dove, resting between the others.

They all pressed back into the cold rock, the great whoosh of air as wings beat heavily followed by another shrill screech.  "What are those?"  Pippin asked, leaning just far enough to catch a glimpse before pulling back.

"They are Saruman's eyes.  He knows we are coming."  Gandalf let out a slow breath.  Minutes passed and the sound of the winged beasts went away.  One by one the group came from the shadows and looked nervously around them.

"Pack up, it's time to get moving again." Aragorn called out.  The group shuffled their things together.  

Piccolo returned to the tree and retrieved his bag, pulling it onto one thick shoulder.  He turned to follow the others and noticed Legolas standing stiff, face into the breeze.

"Coming?"  Piccolo watched him for a moment before going against his usual judgment and rested a hand on Legolas' shoulder.  "Legolas?"  The word was quiet but the elf blinked and came from his reverie, smiled sickly up at Piccolo and snatched up his pack before trotting off.  Piccolo frowned, following the slow moving group as they began up the mountainside.

Gimli looked worriedly up at Legolas as he climbed steadily behind him, huffing and puffing like a coal train.  "What's the matter, laddie?"

Legolas looked over his shoulder and gave a thin-lipped smile.  "It is nothing."  Gimli grunted, knowing he was lying.  Legolas continued to climb, not bothering to look back as he spoke again.  "The trees Gimli, they tell me something dire is going to happen…"

Gimli grunted.  "Well if you ever need to talk, I'll be right behind you."  Gimli panted a moment before adding, "If I can keep up…" Legolas grinned and nodded his thanks.

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a/n: I honestly am not trying to make Vegeta seem like an ass…he doesn't come off that way through the rest of the story I promise.

Well that's it for now. Happy Winter Solstice to everyone! ^-^


	5. Fall of the Mighty

A/n: again, a thanks for the reviews. I'm really starting to struggle as I continue (I am a bit farther than this) but as the plot bunnies run around they keep coming back with different ideas… I apologize for how the story may seem a bit dragged out, but in my best effort to write something credible, I didn't want to write one of those stories where everything moves insanely too fast and you don't understand where partnerships, friendships and romance can come from. *heheeh* not that I'm eluding to anything -.-;…

Anyway…here's chapter five "Fall of the Mighty"

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They breached the crest of the mountain and began to push through the knee-deep snow that steadily grew in height.  Gandalf had demanded that the Hobbits go between them.  Piccolo watched as Merry and Pippin pulled their cloaks closer to their bodies to keep in the warmth.  He frowned, but followed along the treacherous stretch.  Legolas scooted by, walking on top of the snow and quickly making his way to the front.  Piccolo and Sam both looked up at him in a mixture of awe and jealousy.  A boulder flew the through the air, like a streaking evil comet and a yell sounded from the front and Boromir pulled Frodo in from an onslaught of avalanching snow.  Another fireball flew through the air and Piccolo could feel the heat as it passed.

Piccolo couldn't hear what was going on for the wind, but soon the group had been turned around and was bound for the caverns below.  The change in the weather and temperatures was slow, but Piccolo found he could no longer see his breath and the Hobbits weren't shivering as badly as they once were.  The smell of water came to Piccolo's nose, but instead of the crisp, clean scent he had grown to recognize with it, it smelled of sludge and stench.  Vegeta and Goku both sneezed several times as they grew nearer.  When Vegeta sneezed again Boromir laughed.

"You're going to kiss a fool."  He grinned and Vegeta's eyes widened.

Goku giggled. "Geez, 'Geta, I wonder who it will be."  Vegeta's face drained of color and Piccolo snorted as he grinned coyly at Vegeta.  The Ouji's face colored but he scowled at him anyway.  

The procession soon stopped, a set of enormous granite doors blocking their path.  Gandalf raised his staff and began to speak loudly, the tip of his walking cane glowing a white-blue light.  Everyone waited with baited breath but nothing happened.  Merry and Pippin both growing antsy with the wait began to skip stones in the water.

Frodo bit his lip and his eyebrows furrowed in thought.  "What's the elven word for friend?"

Gandalf looked at him and spoke, "_Mellan_."  The doors began to shudder and the great groaning of their weight broke away into darkness as they opened slowly.  Gandalf smiled down at the Hobbit.  "Good work my little Hobbit.  Good work."  They entered slowly, Legolas with bow and arrow, Aragorn and Boromir with weapons drawn.  

"I don't like the air in here."  Aragorn whispered, feeling as though the dark itself would spring to life and smother them.  Legolas nodded his agreement and turned sharply to every drip of water or scurry of rat.  "Let's leave this place."

Gandalf's foot crunched noisily and he looked down at a crushed skull beneath his boot.  Legolas stopped beside him and looked at the bodies strewn around them, thin arrows jutting from the skeletons.  His eyes narrowed.  "Goblins."

The group backed out slowly and Merry heaved a large stone into the water, the clap and spray of water catching Aragorn's attention for the first time.  "Stop!"  But it was too late.  A large ribbed tentacle rose from the water and wrapped itself around Frodo's legs.  Piccolo cried out, wishing for the first time since their arrival that they had their ki.  Legolas fired shot after shot at the beast as new tentacles reached from the water.

Aragorn leapt from one to another, finally leaping high enough to lacerate the feeler with Frodo in its clutches.  Frodo fell and was caught in Piccolo's thick arms as he jumped from one flailing limb to another and off of the beast while Aragorn drove his sword deeply into it.

"Everyone, back inside!"  

They ran, filling the entryway and stumbled forward over bones and armor as the wall behind them caved in.  The sound echoed deep within the caverns and Piccolo's head throbbed dully long after the sound had ceased to reverberate.  He set Frodo on the ground and the little Hobbit gasped shallow breaths as he thanked Piccolo and Aragorn.  Gandalf proclaimed that he knew his way through the chambers and began to lead them deeper into the halls.

Their footfalls echoed dully, Vegeta and Goku's eyes looking wide and alert as their saiyajin pupils dilated fully to peer into the invading darkness.  Goku could smell something in the air, but for the life of him couldn't determine what it was.  A mixture of rot and feces with something else, as though whatever was just out of their sight were wearing a jacket of decaying meat.  He bumped into Vegeta and a shocked 'oh' escaped him before he sighed and rested a hand on the Ouji's shoulder.  Vegeta smirked into the darkness and let the hand rest where it lay.

After several more minutes passed, Gandalf stopped and scratched at his beard.  The group gathered around until they all stood in the circle of light, expectant and waiting.  After a moment, the wizard said softly, "I don't remember…"

Goku felt Vegeta grow rigid under his hand and squeezed his shoulder lightly.  The last thing they needed was for Vegeta to grow angry and have a tantrum.  Vegeta grunted and crossed his arms over his chest.  The Fellowship waited—in all honesty what could they do besides wait—and stared pointedly into the darkness to try to catch a glimpse of what they knew was lurking in the deep shadows.

They sat and rested for several minutes.  Aragorn and Legolas sitting with Gimli as the stricken dwarf bemoaned the death of all the dwarves that had lived in the great hall.  Frodo had gone to Gandalf's side and a moment later the wizard spoke.

"Ah…follow me."  Gandalf began again, the Fellowship following closely on his heels.  

"You remember then?"  Boromir asked, gazing up at the high columns.

"No, but the air smells much cleaner this way."  Gandalf didn't look over his shoulder and missed the wary glances between the members of the fellowship.

With a great cry, Gimli began to run toward a room off of the pathway, Gandalf calling after him before the others followed.  They entered a vast room; skeletons still in their armor were laid across the expanse in heaps.  The group disbursed, staring around them at whatever eeriness caught their fancy.  Gimli sniffed deeply, Legolas dropping a hand onto his shoulder as they discovered the tomb of a dwarf, Gimli's cousin, Balin.  Gandalf blew dust off of a thick book, the binding creaking as he opened it.  He began to read from its pages, turning them slowly with nimble fingers.  The others listened to the tales within, a growing sense of dread covering them like a sheet.  Pippin gaped, stepping over bones and staring at the large spider webs that hung from the ceiling.  He stumbled backward, hitting something hard and a skeleton clattered as it fell down a chute.  Pippin froze in horror.  Gandalf turned on him, anger flaring in his eyes.

"Son of a took!  Next time throw yourself down and rid us of your stupidity."  He pointed his staff at the well and paused.  A steady thumping came from somewhere deep within the caverns.  All movement stopped as they gazed around themselves in dismay.  The beats grew closer.  "Prepare yourselves…"

The door to the room splintered, oak shards flying haphazardly.  Piccolo covered his face with one hand as masses of the ugliest little creatures he'd ever seen spilled into the room.  Aragorn had drawn his sword, shouting out orders, Legolas already picking off a near dozen before they fully entered the room.  Gimli grinned, hauling his axe from his belt and chopping wildly into the throng.

Vegeta could be heard laughing from across the room, already growing bloody as beast after beast had a limb torn from their body and were beaten to death with it.  Goku snarled, his warrior's face firmly in place as he drove fists and feet through every other enemy.  The Hobbits stood in a circle, taking down one goblin and then fleeing before take down another.  Piccolo's own blood began to sing as he threw himself into the throes of battle, wailing at whatever monster came within reach. The crowd thinned considerably and the warriors began to breath a little easier thinking it was not going to be as bad as they thought when a hollow boom and the blasting smell of rot filled the room.  A bead of sweat rolled from Piccolo's temple down to his jaw, the most repulsive creature had barreled in, a mallet the size of a fallen tree clenched in its leathery hand.

Aragorn gasped in surprise.  The troll sniffed heavily and turned, Frodo stood in the corner, one hand clasped tightly around the ring and he shivered as the thing started to stomp forward.  "FRODO!"  Aragorn struggled to break through the mesh of goblins but they continued to rain in on them.

Piccolo turned, the troll several feet from Frodo and it was lurching the huge mallet onto its shoulder to bring it down in a heavy arc.  Piccolo yelled out, but he too was caught in the swirl.  An arrow whistled by Piccolo's head and stuck into the Troll's meaty thigh.  The beast bellowed, angry, but it turned from Frodo long enough for the poor Hobbit to hide behind a stone pillar.  Piccolo drove his fist through a creature's head and shook his arm mightily to get the smelly thing off.  The Troll still stood in the corner, trying its damndest to get at the little one but Gimli was peeling the last head off of his group like a rotten grape and charging his way to help the brave Hobbit.

The Troll turned at the sound of Gimli's hoarse yell and swung a giant fist.  It only clipped the dwarf, but it still sent him sailing through the air, axe handle slipping from his clenched fist as he dove head first at the ground.  Goku grunted and blurred out of the small group of creatures that were tangled around him and caught the dwarf with a great whoosh of air.

"Thank ye, laddie."  Gimli got to his feet, already half way back to his axe when Goku stood up and shook his head to clear it.

Merry and Pippin leapt from some upper wall and dropped down on the Troll's back.  Piccolo grinned at their courage but flinched at their attack.  The troll shook them off like water and Frodo continued to dance around the post, trying his damndest not to let the thing catch him.  Arrows rained again, some bouncing off of the thick hide, others piercing it.  The Troll only roared, annoyed beyond belief and continued to hunt the Hobbit that kept eluding it.

Finally fed up with the chase, the Troll aimed a tall candelabrum and wielded it as a trident.  He drove the metal and it clanged against the rock.  Aragorn blasted by, stopping the attack with his blade only to be beaten into a wall with one fist and laid unconscious.  Frodo, now in a panic, called out to his friend just as the candelabra drove itself deeply into his side.  He let out a moan of pain and slumped down a pillar.  Random cries echoed out as they watched Frodo fall to the floor and Aragorn came to attacking the troll with all of his might, Gimli beside him, making great divots in the beasts hide.  An arrow flew hard and straight, catching the thing in one eye, it bellowed before two more arrows embedded themselves in its throat and it fell to the earth.

After much panting and a great deal of wiping blood from their eyes, Sam's voice caught their attention.

"Mr. Frodo!"  He ran to the fallen Hobbit after finally getting around the great Troll.  He leaned over his friend, tears of worry in his eyes as he repeated his name like a mantra.  "Mr. Frodo?   Mr. Frodo?"  

Gandalf hurried forward and heaved a sigh of relief as the small Hobbit stood on shaky legs and groaned.  "How in the world…" Frodo pulled open the top of his tunic and displayed the weavings of his uncle's chain-mail.  Gandalf smiled broadly.  "You are certainly full of surprises."

After a moment of flushed cheer rousing everyone's spirits, the banging began again and Gandalf turned to the door.  "Quickly."  

En masse, the group hurried down the corridors into a great hall.  The banging had ceased and Gandalf's eyes grew wide.  His knuckles grew white as he gripped his cane and as the light shattered the darkness, the Fellowship gasped at the hordes of creatures that surrounded them.  The smell of burning brick wafted around them and the ethereal growl echoed along the hall walls.  The goblins began to scurry, falling down cracks and climbing columns.

"That is not something that can be stopped with what weapons we carry."  Gandalf's eyes were far away as he spoke.  "Run!"

Piccolo made sure the Hobbits were all accounted for as he ran, ticking off a mental checklist to make sure everyone was in stride as they came to the stone staircases.

"Down the stairs!  Quickly!"  Gandalf's voice was sharp and clear.  As they descended the stairs, Piccolo watched as one of the Hobbit's slipped and his heart leapt into his throat but Boromir caught the small one's shoulder and righted him.  Vegeta and Goku were in the rear grabbing one beast after another and heaving them into the crowds to push them back.  The things were racing down stairwells all over the room.  The ground shook and Piccolo noticed for the first time that they were going town the steepest, narrowest set of stairs he had ever seen and they had no guardrail and only a bottomless void below them.

The ground shuttered again and the staircase rocked and began to crack.  Boromir, Gandalf and three of the Hobbits were halfway down the stairs when a chunk fell away.  Aragorn grabbed Frodo as the Hobbit wobbled over the breach. 

"You'll have to jump!"  Aragorn's voice carried and Piccolo watched as Legolas' leapt easily to the other side.  The screeching of the beasts grew closer and Piccolo could see some of their hides glowing dully in the low lighting.  Aragorn picked Gimli up and the dwarf growled low.

"Nobody tosses and dwarf!"  Aragorn set him back on his feet and Gimli jumped as far as he could, his toes barely making purchase with the edge of the stairs.  He began to tip backwards, his arms flailing for balance when Legolas grasped him by the beard and hauled him forward.  Gimli growled, rubbing at his chin.  "Aye, watch the beard!"  

Piccolo might have laughed at any other time, but the seriousness of the situation was growing as the beasts were running in hundreds toward them and the sharp snap of the stairwell began to squeal.  Vegeta and Goku easily made the leap, followed closely by Piccolo, against his better judgment to see the others off of the falling rock first.  As Aragorn and Frodo neared the edge another piece of stairs fell and the chunk they stood on began to sway.  Aragorn leaned forward, the stairwell connecting soundly to the solid piece the rest were standing on, and jumped with Frodo clutched tightly to his chest.   They ran full tilt down the remainder of the stairs, the beasts now cut off from their path directly but they came anyway, and the Fellowship ran with showers of arrows at their heels.  

Gandalf stood beside a stone bridge and motioned everyone through as the smell of brimstone and sulfur whirled around them.  The majority of the group had reached the other side when the ground shuddered under heavy footfalls.  A fiery beast stomped into view, at least three stories tall.  The group began to run and Gandalf halted midway, raising his staff and banging it onto the granite arch.  "You shall not pass."  Light radiated from the tip of his staff and the others watched in silence as the beast stopped, flames licking at its body and curls of smoke rising from its shoulders.

It charged forward again and Gandalf raised his staff, a wind blew harshly from out of nowhere, grey hair whipping around his head.  "YOU… SHALL… NOT… PASS!"  Gandalf slammed the end of his cane onto the granite and it rumbled.  The beast shrieked as the stones under its feet began to crumble and fall away into the oblivion below.  Gandalf turned and took a single step from the edge of the crater when a fiery whip snapped and wrapped securely around his ankle.  He paused a moment, his face growing sullen as he was drug to the edge, he clung on, his face only inches over the ridge.  His voice came out as a harsh whisper.

"Run fools." 

And he was gone.

Frodo ran forward but Aragorn grabbed the Hobbit by the shoulders and then wrapped an arm around his waist.  "GANDALF!"  His voice broke and he sobbed harshly, reaching out to the crag.  "NOOoooo!"  Aragorn pointed to the exit and rushed them all outside.

The open air embraced them, the stark sunlight harsh to their eyes.  The Hobbits plopped to the ground, Merry and Pippin holding onto each other and crying quietly.  Piccolo watched them sob and he looked over to Frodo who stood facing away from everyone, his shoulders shaking.  Piccolo's heart wrenched and he looked away to Legolas who was sitting on a boulder, one leg pulled to his chest, his eyes far away as he hugged his knee.

Goku stood staring at the ground, his gentle heart was bleeding for their loss and he dropped to his knees beside Merry and Pippin and pulled them into a crushing hug.  The two turned into his embrace sobbing onto each shoulder.  Vegeta stood to the side in quiet respect.

After several moments, Aragorn looked over them.  "Enough, we need to get moving. Legolas get them up."  

Boromir turned on him and spat, "Look at them, give them a moment to grieve!" 

Aragorn stiffened.  "We don't have time.  Gandalf set us on this mission and we are going to finish it."  The others turned to him, startled at his cool exterior but believing somewhere beneath the pain that he was right.  "Where's Frodo?"

Piccolo's heart stopped for a moment as he looked around him until his eyes settled on the Hobbit a few paces away.  Aragorn stepped beside Frodo set a hand on his head, ruffling his dark curls.  "It's you decision."

Frodo turned, his tear streaked face determined.  "We move on."  He walked to his friends and helped Sam to his feet.  They swung an arm over each other's shoulders as they walked quietly.  The group responded slowly, gathering what strength they had left and followed the Hobbits down the hill.

--

While the Fellowship was trudging up the mountain, Bulma was seated comfortably in a spacious room, her time machine in the far corner.  It had taken six strong elves to lift the thing onto a cart strapped to a mare.  The machine was in a small shed just off of the main gardens.  Lord Elrond had it cleared out so that she may work on it out of the weather.  Now, she was covered in grease, half of the innards of the machine were strewn about the small room and she was eating an apple—held with a napkin of course.  She had had the damndest time trying to maneuver in the dresses and petticoats while squirming inside a machine to gut it.  If she had the choice to start again she would have demanded a tunic and leggings and if denied would have done it in her underwear, but she had already ruined the beautiful dress and pulled out the pieces so she wouldn't have to run around in her undergarments anyway.

Lord Elrond entered and frowned at her posture.  "That is not the way a lady should sit."  Bulma paused from taking a large bite of the apple and looked down at herself, she was slumped down into the chair, an elbow propped onto the small table the maid had brought to set the food tray on and her knees wide open.  –We will give Bulma the benefit of the doubt.  Of course her dress was long enough to hide anything that may have been seen in such a posture with just a short skirt, and who wouldn't want to relax as much as possible after gutting an entire time machine within the time of six hours without any proper tools. — She took a vicious bite of her apple and straightened in her chair, crossing her legs and setting her hands in her lap.

"You look like you've been wallowing in mud."  Elrond curled his nose and sat in a chair opposite the table.

Bulma swallowed the mouthful of pulp.  "Look here mister, it isn't easy to haul out an entire engine without ANY tools or ANY help or proper clothes.  It's messy work okay, I know I'm filthy, I don't need you to point it out to me."  She huffed and took the last bite of the apple before setting the core down, still in the napkin, on the tray.

The corner of Lord Elrond's lips quirked.  "My apologies.  I did not realize the size of the trial you are undertaking."  Bulma sighed and shrugged.

"That's okay.  I didn't think it would be this hard but then I realized I didn't have any tools here."  She looked disgustedly at the machine and kicked at a piece that sat near her foot.  It landed several feet away with a clunk.  She squealed and ran to it, she held it up to the light and fell onto her bottom and bit her bottom lip.  It was the stabilizer, and she had cracked it.  "Dammit! Aaaaargh!"  She whined and flopped onto the ground, dropping the broken equipment as well.

Elrond walked forward and picked her from the ground, wiping his hands on a napkin and frowned when it only served to smear the black mess further.  "What is this stuff?"  He sniffed at it and frowned deeper.

"It's grease.  It's a lubricant for the engine."  Bulma watched as he tried to wipe it away again and giggled.  "Not easy to remove is it?"

Lord Elrond looked up at her and shook his head.  "No it isn't."  Bulma sat back down in the chair and popped what looked like a grape into her mouth.  Elrond held his hand out to her and she took it. "Come, you should clean up.  You could use a break and I'll show you around the palace a little, hmm?"  Bulma's eyes brightened.

"That would be great."  She beamed at him and Elrond smiled back, enjoying the way her blue eyes sparkled when she smiled.

--

Night had fallen again, and the somber group of the Fellowship sat around the fire.  Piccolo had sat, without being forced, near the Hobbits and didn't protest as they leaned into him and onto each other.  Vegeta went hunting alone, and instead of returning hours later came back at regular intervals with some animal or another to be skinned and cooked.  Goku's warriors spirit was strong, but his innocent heart kept him tied to the fire, listening to the other's speak softly of tales about Gandalf the Grey.  Vegeta would pause behind Goku for a few minutes, staring down at his spiky haired head before sighing softly and returning to the forests.  

The dark was too quiet without the Hobbits laughing and being jovial.  Piccolo crossed his legs and grunted apologetically at Pippin as he nearly toppled after his support was removed.  Pippin resettled, leaning heavily onto Merry and they fell into a restless sleep, meals forgotten.  Piccolo tried to meditate, but his mind kept replaying Gandalf's plummet and the heartbreaking bellow from Frodo.  He opened his eyes after several failed attempts to meditate and carefully detangled himself from the Hobbits as he stood.  Frodo gave him a weak smile as he patted his small head.  The boy's large blue eyes were half lidded and red.  Piccolo lay out his bedroll and pointed demandingly at it.  Frodo shook his head but Piccolo would not be swayed.  He picked the small Hobbit up, laying him over one shoulder, pushing the mat closer to the fire with a booted foot and lay the small one down on it.  Aragorn and Gimli watched the action with small smiles but said not a word.  Piccolo draped his cape over the little Hobbit's shoulders and Frodo was asleep before Piccolo began to set Sam to bed.

Piccolo had heard a river as he helped gather firewood before they had settled down and nothing sounded as good as a quick dip to clean off the stink of the combined beasts' blood and sour sweat.  Legolas had departed from the group earlier; he had walked into the tree line and hadn't been back for nearly twenty minutes.  No one was truly worried, they felt as though the worst that could happen that day already had, and the elf desiring a little solitude was something they all needed.

Piccolo disappeared into the trees and walked directly toward the source of the water, seeing it in the distance as it winked with moonlight.  Piccolo kicked off his boots and pulled his tunic from his shoulders.  He dunked it in the cold water and wrung it, scrubbed it along a crop of rocks, rinsed it and hung it on a low tree limb to dry.  He water was nearly too cold, making his toes tingle in the chill but not quite enough to numb them right off.  He found a deep spot that came nearly to his waist and sank to his shoulders in the water, splashing his face and running his hands along to help scour off the filth.

He could hear movement in the trees and the sound of feet as they dropped to the earth.  He didn't need to look up to know the elf had joined him.  Legolas sat on a flat stone near the river and splashed his face then took a long drink from a cupped hand.  Piccolo looked up at him and saw the edges of sorrow on his features, but his eyes remained dry.

Legolas tilted his head and a sad smile graced his thin lips before he shook his head, he looked sadly down at Piccolo.  "The trees are crying."  Piccolo looked up at him, still not entirely believing trees could speak.  Legolas motioned around him and Piccolo gave him a wary look before tilting his head and listening intently.  There was a soft murmur just outside of his hearing range, he listened harder still and could hear wood crackling in the pit where he had come from.  The murmur was louder, but it turned out to be the low voices of Aragorn and Boromir.

"I don't hear anything except the others."  Piccolo dipped under the water and came up, shaking his head and sending droplets off of his antennae.

"You're trying to hard and listening the wrong way."  Legolas' lip twitched as Piccolo looked at him as though he had spoken an entire sonnet in Elfish then demanded he repeat it.  "Don't listen so intently, let the trees speak to you."

Piccolo closed his eyes, trying to appease the elf so that he may drop the topic when a soft whisper rolled across his mind.  He opened his eyes in surprise, but closed them again.  The whisper grew more prominent but grew no louder.  It slowly began to make sense and it was a mixture of sobs and gasps of remorse.  Piccolo looked at Legolas in awe.  The elf smiled lightly.

"You are lucky.  Ordinary people cannot hear the trees."  

Piccolo shook his head to get the teary sobs from his mind and walked slowly out of the river.  Legolas politely turned away and Piccolo pulled his tunic off of the limb and pulled it over his head.  He sat down on the large stone next to the elf and Legolas looked up in mild surprise before moving over a little to give Piccolo more room.  

They sat in amiable silence, Legolas looking into the trees, Piccolo into the alien sky.  "You okay?"  Piccolo didn't turn his head, still gazed at the stars.

Legolas turned his head and gave a small shrug.  "As to be expected I assume."

Piccolo looked to him and frowned.  "He was your friend?"

Legolas nodded, his hair spilling over one shoulder.  "For a near millennia."  Piccolo's eyes widened.  The corner of Legolas' lips quirked.  "Yes that long.  Elves are an immortal people."  Piccolo nodded his head.

"How old are you?"  

Legolas smiled.  "Far too old for this pain to be new to me, and far too young to know how to deal with it."  Piccolo snorted and smiled back.  The silence stretched again, but it wasn't uncomfortable.  "And you, are you 'okay?'"

Piccolo flicked his eyes to the elf and then looked back to the sky.  "About the wizard, or just in general?"

Legolas shrugged.  "Either."

"It is never easy to watch a brave man fall.  But it gives courage to others to hear his tale."  Legolas looked at him with wide eyes, Piccolo was unsure whether they held a hint of humor or one of gratefulness.  "Being here is strange because of how it affects us physically."

"You don't miss your family?"

Piccolo's lips pulled into a thin line.  "I have no family." Legolas looked at him incredulously.   Piccolo looked up, the moon was starting to show above the trees, which meant it was time to head back to the camp, the others would start worrying soon.

He stood from the rock, Legolas following quietly behind, already knowing that the hour was growing late and feeling the tension from his companion.  They exited the trees, Piccolo could see the Hobbit's piled together near the fire, still sleeping.  Goku and Vegeta, long since returned and stomachs full, were sleeping.  Goku sprawled on his back and snoring, one arm draped across Vegeta's smaller frame.  Gimli was across the fire from them, leaning against a rock with a pipe clenched in his teeth.  He nodded to Legolas as the elf sat next to him, drawing his bedroll from his bag.  Piccolo settled under a tree, setting his chin to his chest and began to meditate.  The darkness behind his eyelids relaxed his mind and as he began to flutter through the void, the sound of Frodo's screaming sob bawled deafeningly and he opened his eyes wide, breathing deeply, the burn of unshed tears at the back of his eyes.

The sun was starting to peak and Piccolo watched it rise, surprised at how quickly the night had moved.  The others were beginning to stir, but the only other awake was Aragorn.  Aragorn was sitting against a far rock, he had taken the last shift, and Piccolo could hear his quiet sobs.  Piccolo felt sorry for the man, being a leader is never as easy as those under the leadership believe it to be.

The others woke in turn, Boromir stirring the fire with a stick, watching the last of the embers glow.  Gimli was walking to Aragorn, the stricken leader wiping quickly at his eyes.  Gimli smiled grimly at him and patted his shoulder, a tear of his own caught in his ragged beard.  The Hobbit's woke up simultaneously, Sam mechanically packing his things.  Frodo walked quietly over to Piccolo and handed him the cape that had been draped over him in the night.  Piccolo gave him a sad smile and took it, clipping it around his shoulders.

Now as the procession moved on in silence, Goku and Vegeta brought up the rear, Piccolo stood in the middle of the huddle of Hobbits, the four talking quietly now and then, trying to pick up what was left of their broken spirits.


	6. Enter the Golden Wood

A/n: Just a quick little note this time.  Since they arrive in Loth Lorien, there will be conversation and speech in marks like ::_This_::  it's supposed to signify telepathy.

Anyway, keep the reviews coming, they make my day and I'll try my damndest to get a chapter out before three weeks have passed.  -.-;;

---

Vegeta had not liked the turn of events over the past few days.  Not only had he been sucked into some flippant world where men wore leotards and skirts, but he had been pulled into a mission that he had no business being in.  Sure this place was beautiful, but all around him, Vegeta could feel the underlying evil of the place ready to spill onto the surface and turn all that was green to black, all that was blue to grey, and all that lived to dust.  He had felt the same trickle along his backbone decades before as he gazed fondly on his home planet only days before Freeza had blown it into asteroids and space dust.

He glanced up at Kakkarot as they followed the small band of would-be warriors.  If Kakkarot hadn't been so damned noble all of his life they may have been able to weasel out of it, sparring along the forests and badgering Bulma until she could finally get them home.  Well, so maybe he would have tried to weasel out of it before, but now there was not an Orc in all of Middle Earth that could sway him from his course.  Kakkarot was hell bent on helping these people out of their plight, and even though he would deny it furiously and blast anyone who tried to tell the truth of the matter, Vegeta would follow the younger saiyajin to his death.

The deal with the wizard was a sad one, and Vegeta had realized how deeply it had affected his traveling companions even if he would rather bat them about the head and tell them to suck it up.  Vegeta never talked to the man, only glared at him across the room but the respect the old wizard had gotten just by standing abruptly or sitting a little straighter commanded Vegeta's admiration.  It was no ordinary man that could demand such attentions, even if Vegeta didn't know how important he was to the others.

Now, following the Namek and the Hobbits, Vegeta felt a great wave of weariness flush over him.  Not physically of course, for no saiyajin, much less their Prince, would be weary by simply walking.  The last days had been emotionally trying.  The anger and stoic attitudes were always Vegeta's attributes and would most likely be carved into the stone as it rested on his burial ground, "Here lays a cranky, violent man."  Now, as he looked up at Kakkarot from the corner of his eye, he could only hope that somewhere on that stone was added the effect of the word, 'loved.'

He had come to terms with his attraction to Kakkarot well over two years ago.  He hadn't shared the information with anyone, though he knew that Bulma had her suspicions and even though he assumed she had no issues with the idea, he honestly didn't care if she liked the idea or not because he wasn't about to be swayed by some human female.  

Now looking up at the back of Piccolo's head, Vegeta frowned deeply.  If he knew that Bulma had suspicions, he was damned certain that the Namek did.  Piccolo had kept silent on the matter, and for his sake he had better keep it that way.  Vegeta glared up at the swaying green form and stiffened when the Namek turned his head and smirked down at him.  Vegeta didn't really care if the Namek knew, but he didn't want the moron to start blabbing to Kakkarot about it.  Vegeta wanted to tell Kakkarot in his own due time, and as the time wore on, he was sure it was going to be soon enough.

Vegeta shook his head and suppressed a sigh.  Kakkarot nudged him and Vegeta looked up in mild surprise masked with indifference.  Kakkarot smiled down at him, a sad one that echoed the whole aura that surrounded the group and Vegeta had to restrain himself from knocking the man down and hugging the pain from his heart.

---

Piccolo walked solemnly along with the Hobbits, tuning out their muttering and keeping mostly attuned to his mind and only coming from his reprieve to outside forces to avoid trees, puddles and the occasional stumbling Hobbit.  Legolas had dropped back during a lull and walked quietly beside him for some minutes before realizing fully that the Namek wasn't going to be much company and dropped back a little more and talked to Goku.

The saiyajin was quite happy to oblige the elf in conversation what with Vegeta's grumpy disposition and poor social skills.  At first, Legolas didn't think he would get a chance to speak as the larger man rattled on about how beautiful the land was and comparing it to the forests he had grown up in.  Legolas smiled politely and nodded, catching the vicious glares from the smaller prince now and again.  He realized with quick clarity that the Prince had designs on Goku, even if the other man didn't know that much himself.

"What's it like being an elf?"  Goku asked in wide-eyed curiosity, smiling brightly at the fair elf that strolled along beside.  

Legolas pursed his lips in thought, "I suppose it is no different from being any other creature."

Goku sighed dramatically, "There has to be something.  For me and 'Geta we have awesome strength and speed, even beyond what you've seen here."  Vegeta smirked and narrowed his eyes at the elf.  "Piccolo can—" the Namek in question turned quickly, pausing in his tracks.

"I would prefer if you didn't talk about me while I'm right in front of you."  Piccolo frowned deeply at them.

Goku scratched the back of his head, "Sorry Piccolo."  Piccolo grunted and turned, following the pack again.  Goku leaned nearer to Legolas, oblivious to the seething anger oozing from Vegeta as he did so.  "He's always like that."  Goku whispered.  Piccolo turned his head and Goku laughed guiltily.  Legolas smiled lightly and nodded his head.

 They walked along in silence, Goku still in awe of the slowly thickening trees to their left.  Finally he seemed to have remembered the conversation and smiled again.  "So other than elves being really pretty and having pointed ears, is there something else that makes being an elf fun?"

Vegeta huffed and stalked forward, walking just ahead of Piccolo and the Hobbits.  Piccolo grinned at the back of Vegeta's head and quirked an ear again to listen further to Legolas and Goku.

Legolas shrugged his pack higher onto his shoulder.  "Elves are immortal.  And as they age only grow more beautiful.  They have fluid movement that aids them since many elves live among the trees."  

Goku nodded, absorbing each word like a sponge.  "Is that it?  What about fighting?"

"Elves are known for their skill with the bow, and many with the dagger."  Legolas hopped a little, bouncing the quiver of arrows on his back.  Goku's mouth fell into an 'o' and he beamed again.

Vegeta slowed and came back to Goku's side.  "Enough talking, you're both giving me a headache."

Goku smiled sheepishly.  "Sorry, 'Geta."  Vegeta looked up at him and grunted.  Legolas smiled lightly at both of them and jogged ahead, once again walking along with the men.  

Goku looked down at Vegeta and grinned, "They really are graceful.  Did you see how quick he moves?  It's like he's part of the wind."

Vegeta growled low in his throat and crossed his arms over his chest.  Goku scratched his head.  "What?"  Piccolo snorted and tuned them out again.

Along with the silence, Piccolo again slipped back into his mind, staring amongst the trees and squinting up into the sun-filled sky.  He hadn't been feeling much like himself the last two days.  He assumed that most of his problems were the lack of meditation.  He hadn't had a solid twelve hours of it since Bulma had Goku interrupt him several days before.

Light filtered down through the leaves, making a muted glow among the trees.  It would have been quite a sight had Piccolo been conscious enough to notice.  Something was playing with his head, he could feel it there, like a small tickle in the back of the throat makes one cough lightly but it still remains.  The small tugging in the back of his mind demanded entrance but didn't want to draw any attention to itself.  He could feel Kami there, resting contentedly and Nail lounging as well.  –No confusion should be warranted here, for Kami and Nail both are not as separate beings locked inside the head of our tall hero.  Their memories and mannerisms are stored along with our Nameks.  The fact of them lazing about is only to surmise that their traits were still remaining idle, not part of the problem our weathered warrior is sensing.—

The trees were thickening now, and the group moved cautiously into them, stepping over tree roots and ducking branches.  Piccolo, not quite attentive enough to understand the conversation of Gimli's raving to the others; was also not quite so far gone as he caught Frodo when the Hobbit stumbled over a stump hidden among the moss.  Bad luck for our group that the heightened senses of our alien friend were too attuned into himself to hear the slight abnormal ruffling of the leaves, the small puffs of extra breeze or the quiet sighs that could not have come from a forest animal.  And all too late after Grimli's final grumble of annoyance did Piccolo snap from his stupor and all of the noises we have mentioned fell upon him like a thunderclap.  He pulled the closest two Hobbits to him, and growled low just as a ring of numerous arrows poked themselves from the foliage that surrounded them.

The ring of arrows grew closer, stern elven faces behind large bows and pointed arrowheads.  Aragorn held up his hand, making sure the others would not draw weapons, and spoke loud and calmly to the group of elves.  The circle split at the side, another fair-haired elf strode forward bound tightly in armor with decorations across the chest plate.  The elf lifted his hand and the arrows were withdrawn as quickly as they had appeared.  Aragorn gave him a wide smile and the two embraced roughly—well roughly on Aragorn's end, the elf standing as stone and looking slightly embarrassed.

"Haldir, it has been a long time."  Aragorn smiled at the elf, the procession behind him temporarily forgotten.

"That it has, Estel.  Tell me, what are you doing in these lands?"  Haldir looked quickly along the group assembled, staring openly at Piccolo as he listened to Aragorn's bitter tale.  Even before Aragorn could finish, Haldir held up a hand and nodded his head.

"The Lady is waiting your arrival, she has known you are coming."  Haldir motioned to the troops along the trees and they disappeared quickly, leaving not a trace.

---

The Lady Galadriel watched from a high window as the group wound its way through the trees and into the city.  Her eyes ticked off the number and she frowned softly as she came up one short.  The Fellowship drew closer and she could see Haldir motioning them to the largest of the buildings and led them up a winding stair case up into the canopy of the trees.  

The talan was glowing with soft white light as they entered.  Goku again was in awe of the beauty and remained quite silent and immovable in the doorway.  Thankfully the others had walked ahead of the burly saiyajin, so he remained in the entry, quietly reflecting on the serenity one building could hold.  

The tugging at the back of his mind seemed to disappear, and Piccolo looked around himself in confusion for a moment before remembering that they had entered the city of Lothlorien.  The Lady Galadriel stood before them in a flowing white robe, her auburn hair in ringlet's were pinned up away from her face and held in place with a dainty headdress of silver.  She smiled warmly at them, and then looked down intently at Frodo.  Her smile softened a little and she began to speak to them welcoming them to Lothlorien.

Frodo's eyes were large as the woman spoke, not once did her eyes leave his face.  Piccolo looked warily between the two, not sure what effect the woman had on the Hobbit, but if Frodo suddenly started to walk around zombified toward an open window, Lady or not, Piccolo was going to drop her.

Suddenly the Lady looked away and turned to Piccolo.  Her eyes were intense but not unfriendly.  Frodo was smiling warmly, he didn't look like anything horrible had happened, and he even looked a little refreshed.  Piccolo crossed his thick arms over his chest and frowned down at the woman as her lips curled into the smallest of smiles.  The tug in the back of Piccolo's mind returned, and with it a small tinkling like crystal bells.  Instead of concentrating hard on it, Piccolo let it remain and 'pushed' it forward where it seemed to grow. The Lady's eyes widened marginally, not going unnoticed to Piccolo's sharp watch.  

A soft voice unwound in the chimes, but no…the voice was the sound.  Soft and feminine, it pulsed like the strumming of the low chords of a harp.  ::_You are a unique creature.::_  Piccolo frowned, the Lady's eyes brightened and she began to speak again to the people around them but it sounded distant like voices echoing down a storm drain.  ::_Take no offense, I am just surprised by what I have found locked in your head.  Three lives braided into one.  You have a gentile heart for one who carries such a temper.::_  The voice laughed lightly, the sound of rain falling onto leaves.  When she spoke again, the tone had changed into one that would not be ignored.  ::_Frodo looks fondly on you, and for that alone you are an important part of this journey.  However, times of trouble lie ahead and you must accept them as they are.  Know that in the end all that you fret for will find its way to you.::_  

The presence pulled away quickly, leaving only a light-headed after tone.  Piccolo shook his head a little and blinked.  Lady Galadriel had moved away from them and was walking towards a far chamber with Frodo following behind nervously.  Piccolo started to follow but a guard quickly blocked the door after the Lady and her guest disappeared through it.  Piccolo frowned deeply, not enjoying the cryptic prediction that was stuck in his head and not being able to watch over Frodo.

Legolas gripped Piccolo's shoulder and motioned him to follow.  They were all led back down the stairs and were branched off; guest talans were prepared to house them during their stay.  The Hobbit's quickly claimed the closest that already housed a platter of food.  Aragorn, Boromir, Gimli and Legolas took the next and Piccolo was stuck with the two saiyajins.

Food was brought almost an hour later, Goku and Vegeta long since gone to hunt, too hungry to wait.  Piccolo took it as an omen that he might actually rest while he was here, but he couldn't sit down and relax until he watched Frodo leave the regal talan and made his way into the Hobbit's quarters.

Piccolo turned to sit and saw the Lady Galadriel in one of the high windows.  She was gazing down toward where the others were resting, though Piccolo couldn't see her face from the distance, she looked as though she was greatly relieved of some large burden.  Her face turned toward him and he just made out the smile that lit on her face before that tingly-itch returned to his mind.

::_You should rest.  There are many important events that will happen very soon, you will need what strength you can gather.::_  The lady began to turn away when Piccolo, not content with another message to think too hard upon, replied.

::_What do you mean?::_  The Lady's eyes widened.  ::_You keep telling me things but they're too vague.  How am I supposed to rest when everything you tell me, only causes worry?::_

A tinkling voice, with the hint of laughter curled in his mind.  ::_Do not worry so, I only tell you so that you may keep a level head and aid the others when tough times will fall.  There will be other matters that will have your attention soon, don't dwell too long on what I have told you.::_  Galadriel turned from the window and soon disappeared.

Piccolo let out a deep sigh and a small grunt of frustration.  Before he could brew too long over the full headache that was growing at the back of his skull a small rap sounded on the Talan door.

Piccolo turned from the window, pulling the door open and nodded his head in greeting as Legolas stood in the doorway.  Piccolo stepped to the side and let the elf enter, shutting the door behind him.

"Where are your friends?"  Legolas scanned the room with his dark eyes.

"Hunting."  Piccolo moved from the door and sat cross-legged on a cushion across the room.  He rubbed the base of skull and sighed, all the telecommunication and stress of this little escapade was really wreaking havoc with his head.  Legolas sat in a chair across from him and stretched.

They sat in silence, Piccolo kneading unsuccessfully at the knots that started to pop up along his shoulders.  Dropping his hand with a defeated sigh and craned his neck in hopes to stretch the cranky muscles.  Finally, Piccolo looked up to see Legolas trying to hide a humored smile.

"What?"  Piccolo snapped.  

Legolas shrugged.  "Are you having problems with sleeping outside?"  Piccolo quirked an eye ridge in a 'you aren't serious' sort of way.  –For now we must forgive Legolas his ignorance, for we know Piccolo isn't truly a being to speak freely of himself, and Legolas couldn't very well have known that the Namek feels crowded when there is only one other person in a ten mile radius of his vicinity.—

"I don't sleep."  Legolas nodded, not entirely surprised by the answer.  "I live…lived by a waterfall."  Piccolo crossed his arms over his chest and leaned into the wall behind him.  He smirked lightly, "It was one of the few places I enjoy.  It's in the middle of a huge forest."  Legolas listened quietly as Piccolo's eyes grew distant, he was reluctant to make any noise of input for fear the Namek would stop talking.  "The air was the cleanest there than anywhere else on the planet and the water never clouded, not even during heavy rain."

A small quiet chuff came from Piccolo's quirked mouth and he blinked, his eyes instantly clearing.  Legolas smiled lightly.  "It sounds like a beautiful place."  Piccolo nodded.

Piccolo groaned as a new twist of pain knotted another muscle.  "If you are used to resting in the forest, why are you so tense?"  Piccolo said nothing, staring at the wall behind Legolas' head.  Legolas leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  "You're worried."  

Piccolo looked up sharply.  Legolas sat back, his face a complete void of any and all emotion.  "Is it obvious?"  The question had a sarcastic lilt, but Legolas ignored it.

"Something the Lady has told you."  Legolas fell quiet again as Piccolo nodded, but the Namek didn't offer any information and Legolas didn't bother to question him further.

Legolas didn't mind the quiet, part of the reason he didn't mind this new creature was that he didn't get edgy during silences and feel it necessary to fill them with small talk.  It wasn't something that he found annoying with the others, it was simply refreshing to share company without struggling to find something to say that had no relevance to anything.  Beyond that, Piccolo seemed to have sense of great awe and appreciation of the forests, something rare to find outside any of the woodland folk.  Unless of course they happened to be standing in Lorien, everyone who happened to look upon the golden forests had to value them.

Legolas blinked, and realized that he had dozed off for several minutes.  He looked down and saw that Piccolo had crossed his arms over his chest and was leaning lightly into the wall, his breath coming long and steady.  Standing soundlessly, Legolas walked to the door, just as he pulled it open, an audible gasp reached his ears.  He looked quickly over his shoulder and saw Piccolo, eyes wide and gasping, a fat bead of sweat rolled along his forehead and trailed down the bridge of his nose.

He leapt across the sparse furniture and knelt beside the Namek.  "Are you alright?"  Legolas searched his face for pain and only found annoyance and weariness.

Piccolo wiped at his face and grunted.  "Fine."  The echoes of Frodo's cries retreated into his head.

A single line of worry creased Legolas' normally smooth brow.  "What is ailing you, friend?"

Piccolo gave him a wary look.  "I haven't meditated for two weeks."  Legolas sat on the floor in front of him and crossed his own long legs, waiting patiently for him to continue.  "Normally I meditate for hours on end.  Since I've been here, there's been one good night.  And since Gandalf fell…" Legolas nodded lightly.  The silence spanned again, Piccolo trying to ignore the intense gaze from the fair elf –at one point Piccolo had to literally tear his eyes away from the elf's for the sheer force held in his gaze.  It made a feeling of disquiet spread in his stomach, expecting Legolas to leap to movement and do something outrageous.

Legolas openly studied the angles of Piccolo's face, knowing that the Namek was on edge but at the same time not registering his discomfort.  He watched as a drop of sweat rolled gently down the steep plane of his cheekbone and pause on his jaw.  The differences on Piccolo and those things that were such striking similarity unnerved him but also set him at ease.  The seesawing of his mind made Legolas feel a little irritated, he couldn't just classify the Namek and leave it at that, there was always something else that he didn't notice that would push Piccolo into the strange category, only to leave him to find something else that pulled him back to being normal.  Now, with the uneasiness Piccolo felt over the loss of Gandalf, whether it was personal or everyone else's emotion reflecting from him tipped the scale for the final time and Piccolo cemented somewhere in a class by himself, above normalcy into some form of ascended being. 

Legolas' smiled lightly, his eyes still tearing across Piccolo's features.  Piccolo frowned, his eye ridges narrowing harshly, giving deep shadow to his bottomless ebony eyes.  "What?"

Legolas blinked, noticing the switch from discomfort to irritation.  He tipped his head slightly.  "There is something about you that will not let me be."  Piccolo's frown deepened, but the roughness left his features.  Legolas leaned forward, clear eyes much closer.  Piccolo could feel his shallow breath across his cheeks.  Tipping a little further, Piccolo tensed but Legolas used the leverage to push himself up and stood.  Piccolo nearly let out a sigh of relief and the twanging of tense muscles relaxed.

Legolas paused at the door again and he smiled, it was haunted and faraway.  "Rest well Piccolo."  He stepped out only to poke his back in again.  "You're friends are back, the trees are relieved."  He grinned, but it too was distant.

The door shut with a soft click and Piccolo's mind spun lazily.  He shook his head to clear away the thoughts that clung like silken spider webs.  He crossed his arms over his chest, his mind clearing of all thought, the Lady Galadriel's words were tucked neatly away where they wouldn't bother him again in the night.  As the darkness of meditation began to dampen the day's events, he unconsciously braced himself for Frodo's heart wrenching scream, but it didn't come.  Instead, Piccolo meditated the full night with silence in his head except for soft breathing that brushed across his cheeks and intense eyes bordered by flaxen hair.

---

When Goku rolled over with a snort the next morning, he found himself falling and cracked open his sleeping eyes in time to see the floor rushing up at him.  With a little 'eep' he hit with a thud and sat up, rubbing at his bruising elbows.  Vegeta was sitting in a chair, stirring a pot over the fire, he looked over his shoulder and snorted.

Stretching, Goku walked languidly over and plopped himself on the floor to the right of Vegeta's chair and rubbed the heat from the fire into his face.  "Morning, 'Geta."  Vegeta grunted, stirred the pot again and settled into his chair.

"Where's Piccolo?"  Goku asked, looking around the open room and finding nothing except the rumpled bed he had fallen out of and the empty table and chairs.

Vegeta had closed his eyes, now he peeked one open and he mentally grinned at how much more innocent Goku looked after waking.  "He's gone into the forest."  

Goku sat a little straighter and turned to look directly up at Vegeta.  "How come?"

"He looked distracted.  Even a little pale."  Vegeta's dark eyes narrowed.  The Namek really did look flushed.  Vegeta wondered if he had gotten ill, but his mind snarled out why he should care and he left the thought alone.

Goku stood up and began to rummage through his bag at the foot of his bed.  Vegeta watched him quietly.  With a yip of triumph, Goku stood, a fresh tunic in one large fist and a worn towel in the other.  "Come on, 'Geta.  We should get cleaned up, I can still smell the blood from that warg all over me."  He grinned.  Vegeta snorted and stood, he was going to argue with the younger saiyajin but his mind quickly realized that it would entail the man being naked and he clapped his mouth shut.  Vegeta swung the pot off of the fire and set it on the floor.  

He pointed at it with the stirring stick, "You don't want to eat first?"

Goku shook his head and Vegeta nearly fell down.  "Naw, we can eat when we get back.  Then it'll be cool enough to eat."

Vegeta cautiously gathered his things, watching Goku warily.  "Are you feeling alright, Kakkarot?"

Goku laughed and scratched the back of his head.  "Sure, 'Geta."  Vegeta snorted and flipped his spare clothing onto his shoulder and pulled the door open.  Goku grinned and walked past him, headed for the river they had stumbled into while hunting during the night.


	7. The Ties that Bind

A/n: hey a chapter!  I am so horrible.  I think I'm just in a rut point in the story and that's why I'm having problems…but don't fret … if there is anyone left reading the story to fret…I'm still making headway, it's just slower than I intended.

This chapter is chock full of romantic goodness…okay maybe not, but it does strengthen some up and coming ties and binds.  Let me know what you think.

----

Piccolo had left the talan nearly at the same time the sun was heaving its weight over the horizon.  The night had been long, and his meditation was filled with images of Legolas, sitting quietly with that small smile.  Then the fair elf would melt away and Gohan would take his place, reclining in a field of timothy grass with the ever-famous Son grin stretched across his face.  Then a deep shadow would cross over him, and Gohan would look up in surprise, his happy face falling into fear.  Piccolo had shaken himself awake at least three times in the night, panting, and soaked through with cold sweat and a gnawing panic in his guts.  He didn't know if something was happening back on their Earth or if his subconscious was just manifesting his worry of not being able to return and protect the single being that had saved his soul.  

It was getting to the point that whenever he even closed his eyes to rest his heart would leap into his throat for fear of what his mind would dredge up.  It wasn't so much the images, but the fact that he couldn't do anything to set them at ease.  He couldn't exactly wish himself home to see if Gohan was okay, or bring Gandalf back from the dead to help Frodo's broken heart.

Sighing, Piccolo leaned into the tree he was seated under.  The back of his tunic was soaked from the dewy ground and he cursed softly, right now he would rip out one of his antennae just to be able to levitate.  He could hear the Anduin roaring and even see it sparkle in the new light some ten yards through the trees.  Normally he would have perched along the bank in some nook, but the oak was comfortable enough and he didn't feel like meditating.

Piccolo snorted, how would the others react if he had told them that.  A crackling of leaves and snap of twigs to his left, Piccolo turned his head and saw a bobbing head of messy black hair.  Before he even had time to roll his eyes and look away, Goku entered a small clearing and tripped over a large root.  Vegeta was laughing when he followed, they both didn't seem to notice Piccolo plopped in suitable leisure.  Sighing, Piccolo stood, not wanting to be near the two saiyajin at the moment, especially if they were headed to the river to bathe.

Tipping his head into the breeze he listened quietly to the trees as the whispered amongst each other.  He didn't understand a word of what they said, he assumed they were speaking some form of elvish or even some tongue that was even more ancient to the world.  He followed the breeze, gazing into the canopy of leaves as they began to glow with the morning light.

A small whisk of air blew across his neck, Piccolo whirled with fists balled tightly.  The land around him was calm, the trees still tittered softly and slowly Piccolo let himself relax.  He had taken no more than three steps when the back of his mind prickled in alarm and he spun in a blur to the right, his hand snatching out.  There was a crack in his fist and he glared at the object in his hand, it was an arrow.  He ground down on the piece of wood and it crumbled into splinters.  

Piccolo whirled again, the whispering trees forgotten as his hearing piqued and the entirety of his body wound as tight a spring.  He could feel someone there but he wouldn't allow himself to call to them, if they had been sneaky enough to get this close without him knowing he wouldn't risk them moving again while he bellowed out cover.  There was a noise, no more than a catch of breath but it was enough.

There was blur again as the green bulk grew invisible to the naked eye and with a grunt a solid body was pinned tightly to the trunk of a thick willow.  Piccolo's lips were pulled into a snarl and he could feel all the muscles in his shoulders bunching and releasing in ticks as they strained to stop his fist from pummeling his captive.

The face of his attacker was ground into the bark of the tree, Piccolo holding him by the back of the neck.  After a moment, Piccolo's anger faded a little and he saw through the fuzzy red outline of his vision that it was an elf he held pinned.  

Letting go, Piccolo crossed his arms over his chest and frowned deeply, his antennae swaying as he backed up a pace.  The elf turned and smirked smartly up at the Namek, pushing a stray lock of pale blonde hair from his face and rubbing the raw strip of his cheek.  Haldir straightened his tunic and mimicked Piccolo's stance by crossing his own arms over his chest plate armor.

"What do you want?"  Piccolo growled, his voice a little more gruff than he had intended, but with the turn of events he didn't honestly care.

Haldir regarded him with pale eyes for a moment.  "The news of your strength and speed has spread among the troops of Lorien, I merely wanted to see if they were true or a mouth full of lies."

Piccolo snorted.  "You could have asked."  He nodded his head toward the river now farther behind him.  "Goku would have shown you."

"Perhaps.  But the true test of a warrior is in a moment of surprise.  The enemy does not ask for permission to attack before leaping into battle."  Haldir grinned and Piccolo felt it didn't quite fit the march warden's face.

Piccolo grunted in response.  They walked quietly toward the city before a thought caught Piccolo's attention.  "If it was only a test, why did you shoot an arrow at me?  Why not simply by me?"

Haldir cocked a thin eyebrow.  "It would not have killed you.  My aim is true.  It would have struck you in the shoulder."  When Piccolo looked down at him sharply Haldir's grin returned, "It would have only been a glancing blow."

Piccolo snorted but a small, lopsided grin wormed onto his face anyway.  As they reached the limits of the city, a large handful of elves stood to the side, watching the two as they walked side by side.  Haldir nodded almost imperceptibly at them and they began to murmur to each other.  Piccolo didn't have to ask what it meant, he knew that Lorien must have been waiting for the march warden to return to tell them whether the strangers were as fast as they had been told.

The two paused in the middle of the city, the bustle of the day just picking up pace.  Piccolo looked into the trees again, he didn't think he would ever grow tired of looking at them.  But the Fellowship had to be moving on.  Even if he wanted to ignore the slippery black coil of evil that was growing steadily in his mind, the evil wouldn't just go away.  Much like Vegeta had felt, the eerie underscore of coming danger was pulsing, and Piccolo could feel it grow the farther they went.

A familiar blond head bobbed through the throng of elves, many of those he passed smiled politely and stepped from his way.  Legolas was scanning the crowd when his eyes fell on Piccolo and Haldir.  The two were talking quietly, Piccolo with a tiny smile.  Legolas' stomach clenched momentarily and he blinked choosing to ignore it.  He paled slightly as he walked to them, his pace slowing.  He had slept easy enough during the night, but his usually dreamless sleep had been riddled with images of the Namek.  Most of them were sullen enough, times they had kept pace with the group, others when they were seated in silence.  

The other images bothered him to no end, they all started simple enough, a scene of battle where the air was electrified with tension.  Legolas would look over his should and beam at Aragorn and Gimli before he bellowed out his kill rate.  Behind them he could see Piccolo as the Namek began running toward a group of warriors that looked no more than a pack of boys.  An echoing boom made his ears ring and Legolas whirled in time to see a stream of Orcs running through the fortress wall, a pack of them were headed directly for Piccolo and the children.  He drew arrows from his quiver, dozens of them raining down onto the charging beasts but it didn't slow them.  He yelled out for the others to help but he saw Piccolo breaking necks and getting swathed in blue-black blood before a cerated edge drove deep into his chest and he fell.  Legolas reached into his quiver but it was empty and he watched in horror as the Namek struggled, purple blood running in streams…

Legolas shook his head to clear the dream from his mind.  All during the night, one bloody scene after the other had plagued him.  But they were only dreams and he wouldn't let them get to him.

Haldir nodded his head as Legolas approached but a feeling of unease radiated from the regal elf and he frowned.  "How are you fairing this morning, Legolas son of Thranduil?"

Legolas smiled lightly, but it had done nothing to alter the apprehension on his fair features.  "Well."  He looked up at Piccolo, the Namek was watching him oddly and Haldir looked between the two and felt as though he was missing some part of the story.

Haldir cleared his throat and the two looked immediately at him, almost thankful of the reprieve.  "I will leave you two to your day.  I must take up my duty.  If I do not see you before you leave, fair well on your journey."  Legolas thanked him and watched as the march warden disappeared into the crowd.

Piccolo felt an incredible urge to fidget but masked it by taking up his defensive posture.  "You didn't sleep well."  It wasn't a question, so Legolas only looked up at him a moment and didn't answer.

Several minutes of silence stretched, and instead of it being the normal comfortable quiet, Legolas struggled with himself to find something to say to break the monotony.  "Did you meditate well during the night?"

Piccolo grunted but said nothing.  The silence stretched again and Piccolo found himself purposefully looking at everything except the Elvin prince.  Aragorn was walking toward them and they both released a small sigh of relief—they both had heard the sound from the other and for a second wondered what was wrong before passing it over.

"We'll be leaving soon.  You should pack your things and gather some provisions."  Aragorn smiled warmly at them before his eyes narrowed.  "Are you both feeling well?"  Piccolo nodded and Legolas assured him that he was fine.   Aragorn turned to Piccolo, "Have you seen your friends?"

"They've gone to the river to clean up.  They should be back soon, I don't think they've eaten."  Piccolo informed him, and just as Aragorn nodded they could hear the saiyajins crashing through the tree line, Goku laughing like a child while Vegeta chased him with a look of pure death on his face.

Goku tried to plead with the Ouji as he ran, but it came out in a giggling stutter.   "Com'on 'Geta.  *heheh*  I-haha didn't mean –hehaaha anything."  Vegeta however didn't appear to be listening, if they had use of ki, Piccolo was certain he would see a final flash building in the saiyajin's palms.

Aragorn watched them, his mouth slack and hanging in a gape.  Piccolo sighed and excused himself, following the others up into the talan, leaving the shocked crowds of Lorien to their confusion.

When Piccolo made it to the room, Goku had calmed himself and was wringing water from his hair.  Vegeta was back to the room, glowering into the corner.  "What was that all about?"

Goku looked up and smiled wide at Piccolo.  "Oh hi Piccolo.  What was what about?"  Piccolo motioned to Vegeta and Goku suppressed another peal of giggles.  "We were just getting cleaned up and Vegeta started complaining about how cold the water was, then about not having any soap and I told him he sounded like Bulma."  Vegeta huffed in the corner.

Piccolo rolled his eyes.  "I thought you might have told him he looked good naked."

Vegeta went rigid and turned in shock, his eyes wide.  Goku scratched his head.  "Why would I say that?"

A small blush creeped onto Vegeta's cheeks and Piccolo felt a small pang of guilt, but it passed quickly.  "Never mind, Goku."  Piccolo picked up his satchel and rummaged through it, making a mental list as he went.  "We're leaving soon.  You should pack your stuff."

Goku's mouth fell open.  "But I haven't even eaten yet!"

"Relax, Goku.  Hurry up and pack, then eat."  Piccolo sighed as the saiyajin began to fly across the room, scooping up his stray items and stuffing them haphazardly into his bag.  Vegeta still kept his back to the room and Piccolo sat down a few feet away.

"Look, Vegeta, Goku isn't simple he's just naïve."  Piccolo didn't look at the Ouji, and he talked low so that only Vegeta would hear while Goku was busy in a near panic.  "You have to tell him, cut and dry.  If you're waiting for him catch on, you'll be dead for twenty years before he gets it."

Vegeta turned with a hiss.  "You don't know what you're talking about Namek.  You should keep you nose out of places it doesn't belong."

Piccolo grunted and watched as Vegeta stalked toward Goku and forcefully sat the younger saiyajin down.  He spooned out a large bowl of food and handed it to him.  Goku beamed and began to eat quickly while Vegeta overturned the man's bulging satchel and neatly folded the items and replaced them inside in an orderly fashion.  Piccolo shook his head and closed his eyes.

-----

Bulma was just waking up when a small knock on her door forced her to stop rolling over and ignoring the sunlight that peeked in through the heavy curtains.  She grumbled as she kicked the covers back and rubbed at her eyes.  She pulled the door open a crack and saw Arwen smiling sweetly down at her.

"Good morning, Lady Bulma.  May I speak with you?"  Arwen's eyes flicked down the hall before returning to Bulma's shadowed face.  Smiling sleepily, Bulma pulled open the door and Arwen dropped her eyes.  "I didn't realize you were not dressed, I'll come back later."  
  


Bulma held up a hand, "Oh please, I usually sleep with way less than this.  Come in, I'll get dressed while you tell me what's going on."  

Reluctantly Arwen entered and sat down on a plush chair while Bulma stretched and stepped into the bathroom.  Her voice echoed out of the room and Arwen smiled at how friendly the woman was.  "So?  What's going on?"

Arwen ran her fingers through her hair and thought for a moment.  "Latinelin said you were a good listener, I was just hoping I could speak to someone without it getting around to the others."

Bulma's blue head poked out of the doorway, "Well, you have my word I won't tell anyone without asking you first.  Unless I need to bust in some heads."  Bulma grinned and Arwen let out a small peal of light laughter.

"It's about love."  Arwen paused.  A clatter came from the bathing room and Bulma came busting through, a brush and small basket of various lotions in one hand and the other clutching her robe shut as she ran to the small table and dumped the contents onto it.  

She held up one finger, her blue eyes sparkling,  "Hang on just a second."  She ran back to the bathroom and returned less than a minute later working a towel around her damp hair.  Bulma giggled, "I think that's the fastest I've ever washed my hair."  She sat down in the chair and arranged the items in a neat row and opened various ones before pausing and looking up at Arwen.  "Well, go on."

Arwen lowered her eyes, and when she looked up again they were dark and intense.  "My father will not allow me to stay.  He demands that I sail with the others to Valinor."

Bulma was taken a little aback by the anger in her words.  "Valinor?  Are you saying every one else is leaving too?"

Arwen nodded.  "Valinor is where the elves go after they reach a certain age or if they want to be away from all the troubles.  But I don't want to leave, Estel is here and I love him so deeply it hurts."

Bulma tapped at her chin with her fingertip.  "And Elrond is _making_ you go?"  When Arwen nodded, Bulma's face lit with anger.  "He can't do that!  No one can stop love!  Who does he think he is?  Cupid?!  He can't control the way you feel and I think it's wrong that he would make you give up someone you love so much!"  When she finished, Bulma was panting for breath, a hairbrush clamped tightly in one hand and the other a fist that had repeatedly banged the tabletop during her outburst.

Nodding lightly, Arwen sighed softly and began to fiddle with a container of perfume.  "Elrohir says I should just leave, find Estel and ignore father.  Elladan agrees but I could not do that to Ada…"

Bulma rummaged through the nearest closet and pulled out a simple dress of ivory and tugged it on.  "Those are the twins right?"  Arwen nodded.  "And you've talked to your father about it and he still says you should go?"  Arwen 's blue eyes shimmered in unshed tears.

With a harrumph, Bulma pulled soft soled shoes onto her feet and tied her hair back into a low ponytail.  "We'll see about that…"

Arwen stood, watching Bulma's retreating form as the door was flung open in a flourish and the woman began to stalk down the halls, bellowing to the passing Elves that she demanded to see Lord Elrond.  Arwen smiled, part of her grateful and the other part in horror at how her father would react. When she exited the lady's chambers, she could see her brothers in the hall smiling knowingly at her.  She walked to them, her blue eyes sparkling.

"So you've done it?"  Elrohir asked, grinning from ear to ear.

"Yes."  Arwen ran her fingers through her mane and nodded.  When she looked up her brothers tried not to giggle.  "She's gone to find him.  Maybe this will aid my problem and give father something to think about as well."  She laughed lightly and the three split quickly, knowing that if Elrond caught them they would surely be in for some unpleasant business.

Bulma had stomped around half of the castle before she saw the back of Lord Elrond's head as he was speaking quietly with several elves.  "YOU!"  Bulma screeched, and Elrond turned in surprise.

"Lady Bulma, is everything all right?"  Elrond asked, only to see the anger on the woman's face grow.

"I should certainly say it is not!  How dare you tell your daughter who she can and cannot love!"  Bulma had crossed her arms over her chest, which was now heaving in rage.

Elrond turned to the group of shocked elves behind him and they quickly dispersed, leaving the fuming blue haired woman and their Lord alone in the hallway.  "Please, keep your voice down."

"I will do no such thing!"  Bulma's accusing finger came out to poke at Elrond.  "I don't know who you think you are, trying to tell that poor sweet girl that she has to leave when she is so madly in love!"  The finger poked into Elrond's chest on every other syllable.

"My lady, I will not stand here and take this!  You speak of rights, when you have none to tell me what I should do with my daughter!"  Elrond tried to keep his voice contained and the end came out in a low hiss.

Bulma's voice dropped and her eyes narrowed.  "You can't stop love.  If you try to make her do this she'll hate you forever!"

As the two fumed with each other in the hall, they were too taken with their argument to see the twin heads poked around the corner watching in amusement.  Elladan clapped a hand over his mouth as he tried not to laugh and Elhorir ground his elbow into his brother's ribs to keep him silent.

"You can't make someone just give up love."  Bulma crossed her arms over her chest again and pouted.

Elrond grabbed Bulma by the upper arm, hauling her closer and looked down at her.  "What I do with my children is my affair.  I only do what I see best for my daughter!"

"You can't keep your children locked up forever, they will only hate you in the long run."  Bulma's eyes narrowed as the grip on her arm tightened.

Elrond huffed and seconds later pulled Bulma to his chest, his free hand gripping her ponytail and kissed her with all the heat of anger in him.  Bulma stiffened, shocked before closing her eyes and then realized what she was doing as she pushed him away.  They stared at each other in surprise for a moment before color heated Bulma's face and she swung her arm in a strong arc and slapped Elrond across the face.

"How…dare you!"  She hissed as she stalked down the hall, bound for her chambers.  Elrond watched her a moment and growled before throwing himself into his study and slamming the door behind him.

At the end of the hall Elhorir and Elladan were staring at each other with mouths agape.  That was certainly not an event they had foreseen.  Gaining their composure, they turned on heels and quickly paced down the hall to tell their sister what had happened.


	8. Prophecies Fulfilled

A/n: Just so you are all aware, I'm not very impressed with this chapter, but it is important to the story. I've revised it umpteenth times and decided I would leave it as this until I come back and maybe once I'm satisfied I'll replace it with new content.  
  
I apologize up front for any confusion you get from this chapter and hope that it gets cleared up for you later on.  
  
-----  
  
Piccolo gripped the side of the boat in a large hand, staring down into the depthless water. He wasn't afraid of falling out exactly, he could swim and probably could have started at one side of the lake and gone faster than the boats were moving now, but he had unfortunately agreed to ride with Merry and Pippin. The Hobbit's spirits were still sullen, but after a little heckling from Boromir and some playful fighting with Gimli, the four were closer to their usual selves. Now, seated in the back with an oar in hand, Piccolo had to restrain himself from beating the two little one's with it. At the start they were both fine, sitting side by side and laughing over old stories and telling each other jokes that Piccolo didn't find the least bit amusing. After five minutes, they began to get fidgety. It had started harmlessly as Merry's tapping foot, but then that foot had stepped on Pippin's toe. Pippin, startled but no more harmed than anyone would be by having their toe tapped, had elbowed Merry non-too gently in the side. And twenty seconds later, they were rolling over each other on the bottom of the boat.  
  
Legolas, Sam and Frodo had shrugged as Piccolo pointed viciously down at the Hobbit's rocking their small boat, not knowing what to do to make them stop. The men were leading the way, only looking back to make sure that everyone was following; and Goku and Vegeta were with Gimli. Goku paddling happily along and Vegeta grinning from ear to ear at Piccolo's plight.  
  
The boat gave a great jolt and it tipped violently to the right. Piccolo clutched the side of the boat and grabbed a hold of Merry just as the Hobbit began to flop out. "ENOUGH!" Piccolo's deep voice echoed around the Anduin, bouncing back several times. Oars ceased paddling and every head turned. Piccolo was standing in the boat that was now returning to its bottom, two frightened Hobbit's grabbing their heads were huddled together.  
  
The dinghy of men turned back around with wide smiles, Gimli peered over the edge of the saiyajin's craft and Legolas stared at him with a look of muted humor. Sitting down, Piccolo began to paddle again, glaring daggers at the two Hobbits as one would begin to twitch again, only to still under the frosty gaze.  
  
Gimli grinned at the two saiyajins, Goku beaming back at him. "The Namek has a way with little ones doesn't he?"  
  
Vegeta snorted, trailing a hand in the water and looked across the way at Piccolo who was scowling down into the boats bottom. He suppressed a grin and looked across the water at the other crane neck boats and frowned. That creeping feeling along his spine grew considerably as they went, he had tried his best to ignore it but it seemed it would keep itself known.  
  
Vegeta looked down at a stubby fingered hand that gripped the edge of the boat and followed the arm up to its owners face. Gimli was scowling down into the water, his rusty beard tipped over the edge and nearly touching the waters surface.  
  
"You okay?" Goku tilted his head to the side like a curious puppy and Gimli coughed and straightened in his seat.  
  
"Aye lad. As well as I can be."  
  
Goku nodded his head sagely, "You can feel it too huh? Geez, I was hoping it was just me."  
  
Two sets of sharp eyes settled on the tall saiyajin and Goku paused in his paddling to scratch the back of his head. "Did I say something wrong?"  
  
Gimli sighed and shook his head, "No. It just seems to me that if someone else is feeling the Lidless Eye watching that I can no longer ignore it."  
  
Vegeta nodded his head lightly though he had no clue what the dwarf had meant by 'the Lidless Eye'. But to all the winds he could feel it, that icy trickle on the spine that suddenly flames.  
  
Goku paddled a few more strokes before poking his tongue out the side of his mouth and furrowing his brows in thought. "What's a lidless eye?"  
  
Gimli looked startled but settled in his seat and narrowed his eyes, "Are you telling me lad that you are on this adventure and know not your enemy?"  
  
Goku looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding his head. Gimli scratched as his beard and mumbled incoherently for some time before squaring his broad shoulders. "I'll tell ye then, though I am not much for story telling.  
  
"You have heard of Sarumon?" When he received a nod he sighed in relief before continuing. "Well the White Wizard is only a puppet of Sauron. The Lidless Eye is an eye of fire, Sauron's eye, and it sees all. Sauron is the master of the ring that is around that poor Hobbits neck, and no matter where that ring goes or who holds it, it is always wanting to go back to him."  
  
He paused to look to his companions who both held opposite looks. Goku's mouth hung agape and eyes wide, while the small prince was scowling harder than Gimli had ever seen in his life. "The closer we get to Mount Doom, the stronger I can feel it."  
  
"So we are close then?" Vegeta sat rigid.  
  
"Nay, lad. We are still far from the accursed place." Silence fell on them for a time and they watched as the far bank drew closer. Gimli turned his head to look back the way they had come and Vegeta smirked when he heard Gimli mutter under his breath. "Though it is still far too close for me."  
  
---  
  
A wind had picked up by the time they reached the far shore. Piccolo stepped from the boat and hauled it onto the shore easily, the Hobbit's still inside afraid to move before allowed. Piccolo nodded and the two leapt down from the boat, sitting under a large tree and remaining abnormally quiet until Frodo and Sam were picked up and set down on the shore by Piccolo. Piccolo helped Legolas pull his own craft onto the bank and shrugged off the thanks as he tried to figure out what they would do next.  
  
Legolas frowned lightly as Piccolo turned away to help Boromir and Aragorn with their equipment. Gimli stood next to the fair prince and followed his gaze. Biting the end of his pipe, Gimli smiled gently up at the elf and patted his thigh.  
  
"Com'on, laddie. We best get our things as well." Legolas smiled down at the dwarf and nodded, looking over his shoulder and furrowing his brows a moment before helping Gimli into his boat.  
  
"We should start a fire. That wind isn't going to stop anytime soon and we are half soaked." Aragorn looked across the assembled. Frodo turned his blue eyes to the forest and nodded his head.  
  
"I'll go."  
  
Aragorn nodded his agreement and watched as the Hobbit picked his way along the trees. Boromir stood with a hand on the hilt of his blade. "I'll go as well, someone should watch after him."  
  
The others watched them go as they began to set up camp. Piccolo watched Frodo disappear into the trees, Boromir's heavy steps fading along with him. Uneasiness spread along Piccolo's stomach and he stared intently into the trees.  
  
Gimli nudged Legolas who had sat beside him, thumbing through his belongings for a dry tunic. The elf looked to his friend and Gimli nodded at Piccolo. "What do you suppose is wrong with that creature?"  
  
Legolas watched, curious. "He is protective of the Hobbit's. That is all."  
  
Gimli frowned, puffing at his pipe and blew smoke curls slowly out of his nostrils. "Mmm."  
  
"You are too suspicious, master dwarf." Legolas grinned, successfully pulling a fresh tunic from his satchel.  
  
Gimli nodded his head slowly and scratched as his chin with his thumb. "Or perhaps, you are not suspicious enough." Legolas untied the chords of his tunic and frowned.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Gimli blew another plume of smoke into the air and watched his friend with narrowed eyes. "These creatures are not from our world, Legolas. It would do you good to remember that."  
  
Legolas gripped the bottom of his tunic and pulled it violently over his head. "They have done nothing to make us believe they are deceitful." Legolas voice had risen in volume and the others were staring in their direction. Goku's eyes were wide and innocent to the conversation, Vegeta however was glaring daggers at Gimli and if Legolas had been closer he would have heard the low growl from his chest. Vegeta's eyes flicked between the two, and when they settled again on Gimli, the dwarf gave him a chaste wink and crooked grin. Vegeta snorted and turned back to Goku, letting Gimli rib the poor elf to his wont.  
  
Piccolo was looking directly at Legolas with narrowed eyes. He hadn't heard the conversation for fretting over the feeling in his stomach and watching Frodo. Now he wished he had, he would rather know who his friends were in this group and make sure he left those reluctant to take their aid to their own devices during battle.  
  
Legolas, realizing his state of undress pulled the fresh tunic over his head and sat down, drawing on the strings as he tied them.  
  
There was no reply for some time and Legolas was grateful. He pulled his hair from the back of his collar and secured his arm guards while Gimli watched him with the smallest of smiles. "They fight amongst themselves. You've seen it."  
  
Legolas looked up at his friend and saw the smile in his eyes. "Yes. But were we not just in an argument ourselves?"  
  
Gimli nodded his head and tapped the remains of his tobacco out of his pipe, kicking loose sand over the faintly glowing remains.  
  
The two looked around them for a moment before coming to rest on the whole reason for their conversation. Piccolo was seated in his usual lotus style by the trees, arms crossed over his chest. Within moments of their silent appraisal, Piccolo sat rigid and quickly got to his feet. Gimli nudged his friend with an 'I told you he was mad' look on his face when Goku and Vegeta both turned in the same direction.  
  
Goku's face dropped from the large grin he had worn while talking to Vegeta back into his warrior face. "Frodo."  
  
The three took off into the trees, moving as swiftly as the wind, the others struggling to figure out what was happening and trying vainly to keep up.  
  
---  
  
Bulma smiled politely, ankle deep in mud and muck dripping from the bottom of her skirts, as 'Elin set a tray down on the makeshift table in the corner. The time machine had been entirely dismantled for an entire day, pieces piled by use and importance and this morning Bulma ran down a checklist to make sure it was still all there. It took her until noon to finish the list before she could get down to work, but she didn't want to lose even a single screw while they were trapped here.  
  
'Elin smiled and gathered her skirts in her hands as she stepped around the deeper areas of muck and squatted neatly beside Bulma as she carefully picked through a stack of computer chips and wires. 'Elin didn't say a word, she had grown used to Bulma's eccentric moods and learned that the scientific beauty was only geared up into mechanical mode while she was working. Since 'Elin had never seen anything that even resembled the smallest piece of what the woman worked on, she had only observed and made sure not to touch anything. Lord Elrond had made sure that she knew the importance of Bulma's machine.  
  
Bulma huffed and stood, plopping solidly in a chair with a note of finality. 'Elin shuffled over the gooey ground to the far chair and settled, removed the lid from the tray and poured Bulma a glass.  
  
"How are you today, Alora?" 'Elin curled her hands in her lap and watched as Bulma wiped her hands on a napkin before picking through the fruit.  
  
"I'm fine, 'Elin. And don't call me Alora okay? Just Bulma." Bulma popped a grape into her mouth and sighed at how sweet it was.  
  
"Of course." 'Elin nodded her head, a mischievous smile on her lips.  
  
Bulma cocked an eyebrow and took a sip of wine. "What?"  
  
"It's nothing." 'Elin shook her head, a fine braid falling into her face.  
  
A few moments passed, Bulma eating quietly and watching 'Elin with a curious look. Finally after finishing her glass Bulma couldn't take the quiet giggles and odd looks any longer. "What is it? For kami's sake, tell me!"  
  
'Elin beamed, pushing the braid behind her ear. "I heard you spoke with Lord Elrond yesterday."  
  
Bulma shrugged, finger-combing her azure hair from her face. "Yea, so?"  
  
"Well I heard it was over Arwen." 'Elin's face grew brighter. Bulma simply looked at her. 'Elin pressed, "And you both got heated..."  
  
"Are you trying to tell me something?" Bulma quirked an eyebrow, a lock of blue hair curled tightly around her finger.  
  
'Elin huffed. "Alora, I mean Bulma, the Lord hasn't come from his study for hours. Naturally we're all interested in what may have happened." She smiled secretively.  
  
"For goodness sake, 'Elin get your mind out of the gutter!" Bulma tinted. 'Elin looked at her queerly, not grasping her meaning. "We got into an argument that's all!"  
  
'Elin nodded, smiling softly and leaned back in her chair, hands still lying on her lap. Bulma watched her in silence, unconsciously popping another grape into her mouth. ".so, do you mean Lord Elrond had some ulterior motive for bringing me around the castle?"  
  
'Elin shrugged and stood gracefully, piling dishes and picked up the tray. "I can't say for certain Bulma, but for the time I have been a servant here, not once have I seen him lock himself in his study. Not for simply for being angry." She beamed at her as she opened the door. Bulma's mouth opened to question her further, but the door shut with a small click and she was left to brood as she began to rummage through the pile of parts strewn around the workshop.  
  
---  
  
Boromir lay on the packed earth on the verge of weeping. Frodo had run, and his insides had turned to ice as the realization of the horror on the Hobbit's face finally ate into his heart. He had done as the Lady had warned him he would, now the Fellowship would break and Middle Earth would fall into Saruman's hands, and it was his fault. The sound of pounding footfalls made him look up and he shrieked as a large green hand embedded itself in his hair and hauled him to his feet.  
  
The Namek had never looked so enraged. Boromir had made several off-handed comments to his other companions about the beast that trailed after them. How he looked so evil, how he would be the one to kill Frodo in his sleep, how the damned thing never showed any emotion. But the seething anger, had it any more heat, would surely have seered into his skin. And now, as Boromir tensed in preparation for the blow he deserved, Piccolo dropped him and began to spin lazily looking intently into the woods, glaring into the thick line of trees.  
  
The other two of his companions stopped on the skirt of trees and were doing the same. Boromir stood shakily, looking nervously between them as Aragorn burst through shortly after. As soon as the ranger's eyes locked onto his, Boromir pointed with a shaky hand to the battered fortress on the hilltop and the ranger was gone.  
  
Legolas and Gimli were not far behind the ranger, the lithe elf quickly dispatching himself toward the hill were Aragorn had disappeared. Gimli panted jogging after his friends before pausing and watching the trio of strangers with a confused glance. The sound of thundering footsteps soon resounded in the clearing, the first ugly orc pushing his way through the trees bellowed mightily and raised his blade as a river of orcs followed behind him.  
  
"What the hell is that?" Piccolo's mouth gaped but only for a second as his composure took him. He grunted and nodded, nearly imperceptible, to the saiyajins and without a word they began their attack.  
  
The first kills were flawless, blue-black blood soon flowed in sticky trails across the earth. Piccolo using his own size as leverage against the beasts, Vegeta and Goku playing off of each other's attacks, vicious in their blows and flawless in their calculations. Orcs soon littered the ground, Gimli hacking mercilessly while working his way up the hill to his friends where they could see more troops of orc busting through the trees.  
  
The trio of outsiders soon followed suit, following the dwarf through the brush and guarding his back from the thickening throng of foul beasts. They all breached the line of trees in a rain of arrows. Aragorn was bellowing to them, and orders were followed quickly without question. -Though there was hesitation, especially on Vegeta's part, but Goku nudged him and the Ouji growled under his breath, scowling as he destroyed one beast after the other. Legolas stood atop a worn shamble of bricks. His right arm pin wheeling so quickly with arrows that it was nearly a blur.  
  
As the battle raged, Piccolo was too caught up in the smell of blood and the feel of hard flesh bruising beneath his fists to notice the small spark of ki he recognized as Frodo running toward the Anduin and away.  
  
Legolas drove an arrow into the throat of an oncoming orc and quickly notched it, firing it into the chest of another as he ran. He scanned the crowds quickly and saw Piccolo surrounded by a throng of orcs and he had a sickening sense of déjà vu that roiled his stomach. The horn of Gondor trumpeted through the forest, visibly shaking Legolas from his stupor as he butchering a beast that nearly pounced upon him. Boromir was in trouble. The group of warriors ran to his aid, slaying beasts and trying vainly to gain the ground between them and their falling comrade.  
  
When they arrived, less than a dozen remained while the greater troops were charging at full speed from the forest. Legolas shot two in quick succession, the senshi making quick work of the remaining while Aragorn knelt beside Boromir, the man was riddled with arrows and deep gashes.  
  
Piccolo and the saiyajins stood, panting and shaking blood from their arms. Piccolo's hearing not trained on any one thing soon picked out the words that came strangled through the dying throat of Boromir.  
  
"They've.they've taken the little ones." A whimper of pain and gasp followed but Piccolo barely heard it. Instead he pushed out his ki, feeling frantically for the life force of the small Hobbits, his heart pounding harder in his chest. What he felt nearly tore his mind in two. They were separated, and they were going in opposite directions. He couldn't run after them, couldn't save them. times of trouble lie ahead and you must accept them as they are. Know that in the end all that you fret for will find its way to you. The words of Lady Galadriel echoed in his head and Piccolo could feel his anger swelling. She knew, she had known at yet she refused to tell him. He could have prevented it! They could all be alive and moving along peacefully right now!  
  
The outside of Piccolo's vision clouded crimson and he clenched his eyes shut to stop the surging of his blood and tried to calm his mind. A cool hand touched his shoulder and he turned vehemently, one fist cocked. The calm eyes of the elf stared back at him through his haze, his fist shaking from restraint loosened and fell to his side. He looked down on the flaxen hair and felt helplessness wrangle his heart. "They're all gone." His voice was a low croak and Legolas looked at him with mild surprise at the display of emotion, then his eyes widened further as his mind processed what the Namek had told him.  
  
"Where is Frodo?" Legolas spoke loudly, scanning the trees with quick eyes. Aragorn stood slowly.  
  
"He's headed to the river." The ranger's voice was low and calm.  
  
"We have to catch him!" Legolas ran into the trees and moments later the remaining crew of the Fellowship followed.  
  
The trees were a blur as they ran, Piccolo quickly caught up with the elf and ran by his side, both coming onto the riverbank and drawing short. One of the boats had been pushed away and was very nearly banking on the far side of the shore. The two saiyajins, Aragorn and Gimli soon stumbled from the trees and Legolas ran toward the man grabbing him by the shoulder and pointing dumbly toward the small vessel as two Hobbits pulled it ashore and rapidly disappeared in the brush.  
  
Legolas soon had a hand on one of the boats and was ready to push; Piccolo watched in silence, there was something he was missing here. Aragorn was still standing rather stolidly and gazing across the water where the Hobbits had disappeared. Piccolo's eyes narrowed. They weren't going after Frodo.he had been set free.  
  
Legolas nearly growled in frustration. "Quickly, they will soon disappear!" He pushed a little on the boat to get them moving but paused to look over his shoulder when no one came to his aid. Vegeta was glaring, Goku scratching at his head, and Aragorn. "You mean not to go after them."  
  
Legolas dropped his hand from the boat's edge and felt a weight settle in his stomach. Piccolo's gravely voice soon broke the ensuing silence. "What do we do now?"  
  
Gimli nodded his agreement. "We have failed."  
  
The dwarf looked at his feet and Aragorn set a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "The Fellowship has broken, but that does not mean that we can give up. We must hold on to hope." The small group of warriors shuffled on their feet, spirits tattered but all were willing to have them mended. Aragorn grinned slowly. "Besides, we have two Hobbits to save." Gimli beamed up at him and shouldered his axe.  
  
"Aye, I'm with you, laddie."  
  
Provisions were gathered in record time, and soon the group of six was trudging through the forests, tracking the orcs that held captive two of the innocents.  
  
---  
  
Bulma frowned sadly down at the broken stabilizer on the tabletop. She may be able to fix it if only she could find a metal worker. Dark circles ringed her eyes and she yawned mightily. She had stayed up during the night, carefully reconnecting wires and positioning equipment. She only started to rebuild, it would most likely take several more weeks to get the entire machine back together.that is if she could repair the damaged equipment.  
  
Elin entered without bothering to knock and stood over Bulma with her hands on her hips. It took several minutes of the elf tapping her foot before the blue haired beauty even noticed she had company.  
  
Bulma smiled sleepily up at her friend and knuckled one of her eyes. "Hello, Elin."  
  
Elin sighed. "Lady Bulma you have not slept. You need to get some rest."  
  
Stretching and letting out a slow groan, Bulma stood up with a mesh of wires clamped in her hand. "I will, Elin. I just want to finish the altimeter before I do." Elin looked oddly at her before stepping in front of the exhausted woman and blocking her path.  
  
"Lord Elrond demands that you get some rest." Elin tried to look stern but she grinned and ruined the effect.  
  
Huffing, Bulma walked brusquely by her friend and squatted on the ground, measuring out wire and mumbling to herself. She looked over her shoulder and saw Elin frowning down at her, arms crossed over her chest. Bulma giggled, Elin looked like a female Vegeta, only prettier, and sweeter, and funnier. :Dear Kami, I am exhausted.: Bulma shook her head.  
  
"If Elrond demands that I do anything, he should at least have the courage to tell me himself." Bulma snapped. Setting the partially re-assembled altimeter on the floor of the machine, Bulma yawned wide. "It would be so great if you guys had caffeine." She looked over her shoulder to smile at Elin but realized the girl had left. Shrugging, Bulma turned back to her work, yawned again, and began turning screws with a sharpened rock.  
  
Lord Elrond was headed to the particular section of grounds he had been avoiding adamantly for several days. He hadn't meant to kiss the woman he took in, and for the first time in his millennia of years, he wasn't sure what to do about the situation. He had contemplated right out apologizing to her, possibly explaining that he was not attracted to her in such a way.but he would have been lying. At a weaker moment he was determined to tell her that it was an elfish custom after having an argument, though thankfully his mind returned quickly to him before he could embarrass himself horribly with that train of logic.  
  
Now, the young Elin had informed him that the woman hadn't slept for nearly two days and had refused to go to her chambers for rest. Even as he strode purposefully toward the small shack, he felt a flux of unease, he didn't want the Lady to be uncomfortable in his presence. He knocked solidly on the door, hoping to mask his disquiet by being slightly harsh and indifferent.  
  
Bulma was sitting on the ground, bent over a piece of some contraption or other. Elrond noticed that she hadn't heard the knock, or maybe chose to ignore it. Clearing his throat, Elrond walked further into the space, picking up a small hunk of metal that looked very much like a vial that had a severe crack down one smooth side.  
  
A soft noise of surprise reminded him of his adventure here and he set the metal back to the table and looked down his thin nose at the woman who sat amongst strewn parts. "Elin tells me you refuse to gain your rest."  
  
Bulma scowled at him. "I told her I would once I finished with this." She turned back to the altimeter before Elrond could see the light blush that began to creep into her cheeks.  
  
"It would be prudent of you to take a respite from your work. It would not do to make an error from fatigue." Elrond smiled lightly as Bulma seemed to deflate under his gaze. She set a filed stone on the ground and stood up with a soft groan, dusting her skirts.  
  
"Fine." She sighed, finally regaining enough composure to look at Lord Elrond in the eye. "Lead away."  
  
Elrond nodded his head, thick auburn hair spilling across his shoulders as he turned. Bulma flushed lightly when she thought of how it may feel under her fingers, :I bet it's like silk. Oh man do I need some sleep.:  
  
They took a slow but steady pace back to the main hall, stopping before the heavy doors that marked Bulma's quarters. Lord Elrond began to push the door open but paused. "Lady Bulma, I would like to discuss what happened a few days ago."  
  
Bluma blinked in surprise at how blunt he had come across. She smiled sheepishly and willed away any blushing that started to rise. "Forget about it." She waved her hand in dismissal.  
  
Elrond nodded his head again, his smile wavering. "Of course. Consider it forgotten." 


	9. The Broken's First Night

a/n: HEY! A chapter out in time for my birthday (25th), and for the sake of the last chapter that I didn't really much care for, this one I like much better. A little saiyajin snuggling, and some nice hidden innuendo for later...lol Not to mention just a little Goku innocence.  
  
Please enjoy! ---------  
  
They had been running straight out for nearly twelve hours. Taking a very short break in the noon heat and continuing on well into dusk until they made camp for the night. Gimli, for all his strength and determination was not a natural at covering large areas of ground, but even though he struggled to maintain their speed would not let his stature get his spirits down. Goku had offered the dwarf a lift and Gimli had stolidly refused, claiming that no man need carry a dwarf.  
  
Vegeta and Goku had kept pace well with each other, Goku talking into the wind that whistled by their ears, Vegeta grunting and nodding now and then; and when he thought Goku wasn't looking he would smile offhandedly at the tall saiyajin and lightly shake his head.  
  
Goku had noticed however, but wouldn't make a deal to catch the prince in his gazes, instead he would smile to himself happily, glad to see Vegeta relaxed. He never liked it when Vegeta was always irate, but it seemed to him that the Ouji was slowly breaking away from the self-absorbed person he was...Goku couldn't be more happy.  
  
As much as Goku wanted to ignore the others around them and run until they fell exhausted and light headed, he was growing more and more worried for Piccolo. The longer time slipped away without them gaining much ground on the Orcs that had taken the Hobbits, the more angry and withdrawn Piccolo seemed to get. Goku watched him now, running and keeping pace with the pack, but Goku could feel his ki ripple now and then like he was ready to burst apart and leave them all behind. In all honesty, Goku didn't think that it would be a really bad idea to do just that, but a voice in his mind cautioned him to remember that the land was new to them, and they had only seen some of the small wonders it held.  
  
Goku was about to pick up pace to catch his friend and see if he couldn't wring out some of the worry that was creasing the Namek's forehead, but before he set his next foot down he saw the lithe elf move like fluid, angled to intercept Piccolo. Goku grinned to himself and remained where he was, Legolas may actually be a better person for Piccolo to talk to...Goku knew that he could sometimes be too chipper when he tried to cheer the Namek up in the past and only served to make his friend even angrier. Hopefully the Elf would have better luck, they did seem to entertain each other's presence often enough since the trip had begun.  
  
Goku continued to run, looking over his shoulder to see Gimli hoofing through the brush and panting so hard Goku was worried he would pass out, and looked again to Piccolo and Legolas. The elf was acknowledged with a small snarl and curl of lip, and even though Goku couldn't quite hear what was being said, Legolas suddenly looked livid and began talking animatedly moving his hands in the air before clenching them into fists and bringing them back to his sides before moving off toward Aragorn. Goku watched with wide eyes, Piccolo scowled as the elf ran off and frowned before facing forward and Goku resisted the urge to scratch the back of his neck in wonderment.  
  
When they had finally settled, Gimli plopped onto his bed and after inhaling half a piece of Lambas bread, soon began snoring soundly into his pillow. Goku sat next to Vegeta, eating his own food. The larger saiyajin had decided against hunting tonight, and even though their appetites were huge, found with some amazement that after three pieces of Lambas they were satiated if not full. Vegeta hadn't said much, which surprised Goku when they had finally settled, he was waiting for the Ouji to begin complaining about how they could have gotten the small ones back and returned to Rivendell by now to bother Bulma.  
  
"You okay, Geta?" Goku looked worriedly down at the prince until Vegeta shot him a confused and irrirtated look.  
  
"I'm fine, baka." Vegeta frowned as he rolled out his bed and flopped down upon it, crossing his arms under his head. Goku lay beside him, mimicking his position.  
  
"I'm worried about Piccolo." Goku spoke quietly, though he doubted very much if Piccolo would hear him, the Namek had been even more of a recluse this night and was sitting atop a far hill facing them but still a dozen yards away and seemed far to absorbed into his head to notice.  
  
Goku heard Vegeta snort and knew without looking that a small scowl graced his royal features. "The Namek will survive." Vegeta looked over as he heard Goku sigh. "He is only angry over reasons he cannot control."  
  
Goku nodded and sat up. He unfurled his own bedroll and sat down upon it, he smiled down at Vegeta as the Ouji examined the back of his eyelids trying to sleep. Gingerly, Goku pushed a spike into place and out of Vegeta's face before turning and lying down to sleep. Vegeta's eyes snapped open and he looked at Goku's back for a moment before smirking and nuzzling into his bed, the smallest of warm sparks tickling his heart.  
  
Piccolo sat stone still on the hillside, gazing down at the sleeping figures before his eyes hardened into flint and his uncurious gaze turned to a steady glare. He hated the rage that burned in him. It was almost as though he could feel the anger and hate he had long ago given up with the help of a small boy rekindle and flame. He could feel his mind in turmoil, reacting violently to the churning of emotion in his stomach. Nail and Kami fought to regain control, now and then winning the upper hand for a moment in time as Piccolo would relax, only to lose it to Diahmao a moment later.  
  
It had been such a long time that the pull of hate held an exhilaration to it that made Piccolo grin in sadistic glee only to turn inward moments later, scared nearly to death that he was slowly letting it get the better of him. He didn't want to turn into what he once was. King Piccolo had been a totally separate being, he wanted no part in what the demon had attempted during his life, had prayed his son would be...  
  
Settling again, Piccolo blinked slowly and looked down on the people around the small fire. He hadn't spoken to any of them since they had left to track the Orcs, but no, that wasn't true was it. He had spoken to the elf. Piccolo grimaced as he remembered the anger that had fogged Legolas' sharp eyes. What he had said to him, he couldn't quite recall, and what pieces he remembered were all in elvish. Now he saw the fair head disappear into a tree, it seemed the elf had first watch. Piccolo could feel the glower that stretched across the plane from behind those leaves. _'Fuck off, elf. I am in no mood for you incompetence'._ :Ahh, yes. That was it.:  
  
Oh, how those words must have stung. Piccolo sighed deeply, feeling a small bubble of rage build in his stomach, but he pushed it down and away. He hadn't meant to be so ignorant, but he had been torn between those halves (if they would be halves) that he didn't have time to register that Legolas had come to settle him. Instead, Diamhoa had snapped into place and spat out the hateful words and watched in disgust as the elf hissed back his own reply. Legolas had already run off when Piccolo finally repressed the demon inside him and frowned deeply, too late to explain his actions. He may be able to apologize to Legolas for his rude behavior, and the elf may forgive him but it would always haunt the back of his mind and he could never have the calm, serene relationship with him again.  
  
Piccolo hadn't started this course to make friends, but he wasn't sure if he could finish this quest with the only being that didn't seem to be fixated on his appearance alone in bad humor with him for however long this trial would last. "Legolas..."  
  
Nearly ten minutes had passed and Piccolo wasn't sure if the elf had heard him, but he was too stubborn to call out again. Another five passed before he heard Legolas leap down from the tree and pad softly up the hill. The closer the elf got, the more apprehension replaced the anger that had once pooled in Piccolo's gut. Now what was he going to do? Apologize? He didn't remember apologizing to anyone for anything in his life.  
  
Legolas sat down quietly several feet away, folding his legs under him but poised and tense in case he decided he was going to leave. It remained quiet for some time, Legolas waiting patiently for Piccolo to tell him what he wanted; Piccolo staring forward, still pensive.  
  
"I am on watch. If you do not speak soon I will have to leave." Legolas' voice was chilly, and Piccolo frowned.  
  
When another minute passed without a sound Legolas stood up to leave but was caught by the wrist and pulled back to the ground. "Wait." Startled and a little fearful, Legolas crouched on the balls of his feet so that Piccolo would release him. Half a minute later, the Namek let his arm free and sighed so softly Legolas wasn't sure he had heard it. "I didn't mean what I said earlier."  
  
Legolas' placid face, hardened. "Of course."  
  
"I'm serious. I never meant to offend you." Piccolo finally looked sideways, Legolas could see an internal conflict warring behind the pools of ink. "I feel helpless; I hate it."  
  
Nodding once, flaxen hair fell into Legolas' face. "I understand." The voice that came out was still crisp. Silence stretched again and a mixture of apprehension and agitation pitted in Legolas' stomach. "Is that all?"  
  
Piccolo had said nothing, turning his head back to face the group below them. Legolas resisted the urge to roll his eyes and scream at the Namek and walked stiffly down the hill. "I'm going after them."  
  
Legolas paused. "That is what we are doing."  
  
"No," Piccolo's voice was eerily calm and nearly monotone. "I'm leaving now. I can catch them if I don't have to pace myself with the group."  
  
When Legolas turned, the Namek was already standing, the full moon behind him highlighting his outline so that he seemed to glow. When Legolas spoke it was a harsh whisper. "You will be far outnumbered."  
  
Piccolo snorted and Legolas struggled to see the look in his face in the darkness. When his focus returned, all thought of the earlier anger disappeared. Piccolo was serious, and the look that was etched across his face told Legolas that he didn't care how many orcs and other demons may be lurking in wait, he was leaving.  
  
"Please, listen to me. I know you mean well but you will only get yourself killed if you leave now. Wait and leave with us at dawns light." Legolas' voice strained to keep from increasing in volume. Piccolo narrowed his eyes, lightly picking up on the nervous tension in Legolas' tone.  
  
"I have to." Piccolo turned and looked across the wilderness that was waiting for him. A cool hand settled onto his shoulder.  
  
The voice that came to him was a soft whisper, "You cannot." Piccolo turned, surprised at the change in attitude. The elf stood there, chilly palm still resting on his shoulder. Legolas' face looked nearly transparent in the moonlight and his vibrant eyes were clouded with thought.  
  
The same images kept running through Legolas' mind in a loop. A growling Namek stood fighting furiously, a throng of orcs closing in around him, the glint of a blade before it sank deep into emerald flesh, an arching spurt of violet... "...so much blood..." Piccolo's eyes widened. He didn't think Legolas knew he had spoken aloud.  
  
"What blood? Are you hurt?" Piccolo's attention tightened and he breathed in deeply but could smell nothing metallic. He grabbed a hold of the elf and turned his head in his hands, looking across his face and neck and still seeing nothing, moving on to twist the poor elf like a doll and looking at his limbs, back and chest for any wounds.  
  
Legolas blinked from his reverie. Piccolo looked a little panicked and had him by the shoulders, shaking him lightly chanting over and over 'Legolas, what blood?' Finally, the elf realized he must have said something a loud and pushed the Namek's hands from his shoulders.  
  
"Nothing." Legolas' eyes darted across the landscape and would only fleetingly rest on the Namek. Piccolo didn't look convinced. "Really, 'tis nothing." Legolas tried to smile in reassurance. Piccolo narrowed his eyes and turned to face the wilds again. Panic gripped Legolas chest. "You are leaving?"  
  
It took a moment for Piccolo to fully register the undertone of the question as alarm. He sighed deeply, "No." He saw Legolas relax from the corner of his eye. "I'll join the others in a moment."  
  
Legolas nodded and trotted down the hill, looking over his shoulder only once to see Piccolo with his thick arms crossed over his chest, watching him as he moved. Legolas faced forward again and shivered as he felt the gaze linger. He chose to ignore it and scanned the sleeping faces around the fire before leaping up into his tree again.  
  
'_Fuck off, elf. I am in no mood for your incompetence._' The memory was so loud Legolas widened his eyes and peered at Piccolo for a moment, thinking he had yelled it across the way. But Piccolo was still standing on the hillside, Legolas could see him frowning softly down at his feet and felt a swelling in his chest.  
  
Grunting and feeling the old anger spark in his heart, Legolas quickly squelched it as he envisioned the Namek being hacked to ribbons by a troop of orc. The echoes of the harsh words still stung and Legolas remembered vaguely of ranting like a scorned lover before running off. He laughed to himself at the comparison and gazed through the tree limbs at the dark figure on the hill, finding that the thought didn't bother him as much as he assumed it should. Legolas tugged unconsciously at a braid and unwound it, :What is it with this creature that has me vexed so?: Legolas watched as Piccolo trundled soundlessly to the bottom of the hill and sat lotus style, rubbing the base of one antenna with the tips of his fingers.  
  
Shifting in the tree, Legolas straddled the limb and faced into the east. He couldn't continue to look at the Namek or he would be too distracted to do his job, it would be rather embarrassing to explain to the Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond how he had been too busy thinking to hear the wargs that killed the rest of the Fellowship. For now he would do his duty, and when Aragorn took the next watch he could attempt to rid himself of the dreams, else what good would having such a strong warrior as the Namek, if Legolas continued to coddle him for fear he would be hurt? :Warriors get hurt, and some killed...would you force his hand to stop him from what was his purpose in life?: Legolas shook his head, frowning at the pale hair that fell into his face and re-braided the lock and secured it behind his ear. He dared a glance again and noticed Piccolo had set his chin to his chest. He smiled lightly, clear eyes softening. :I do not think I would have the strength of heart to stop him if I wanted.:  
  
Aragorn stretched and stood from the hilltop. He had the dawn watch and now as the sun began to tint the sky it was time to make ready, if they were lucky the Orcs had also rested in the night and hadn't pulled farther ahead. Scratching at his stubbly chin, he grinned as Gimli snorted violently in his sleep and woke up coughing.  
  
"Rise Master Dwarf, it is nigh time to be moving." Aragorn called. Gimli groaned as he stood from his bed, digging at his own beard and hastily stuffing his pipe with tobacco.  
  
"Aye, I'm awake. Though I cannot say the same for the saylens." Gimli pulled greedily on the pipe and sighed happily as smoke curled around his head.  
  
Aragorn grinned as he bit into a piece of Lambas bread. "You mean saiyajins." Gimli shrugged, content with his smoke. Shaking his head, Aragorn strode around the fire and paused mid-step as he saw the two dark haired warriors curled into each other. Vegeta had one fist curled into the front of Goku's tunic, Goku's own hand settled on the prince's hip. This had not been the first time Aragorn had seen the two in such embraces during the night, whether the two had planned to do so or not they always awoke much closer than when they had gone to sleep.  
  
"Master Saiyjins, it is time to rise." Aragorn cleared his throat as the two began to stir and glanced away as Vegeta came too quicker than his counterpart and blushed lightly at their proximity. Aragorn choked on a laugh and walked away, watching from the corner of his eye as Vegeta attempted to pull away before the other awoke, only to have the larger man's hand tighten and pull him forward with a sleepy grumble.  
  
Piccolo was rising from his seated position as Aragorn turned to rouse him. Piccolo nodded in greeting, Aragorn noticed that the previous agitation seemed to have been eased during the night and thanked the Valar that it had. Not only had the Namek's mood seemed to draw down the other's, but Aragorn was actually afraid of the beast when he had fallen into his solemn mood—not that he would have admitted it.  
  
Aragorn studied Piccolo's face further as the Namek plucked a full bladder from the ground and rinsed his mouth before spitting it to the earth. Though Aragorn would never admit readily that there was something interesting happening between the members of their group, it was growing harder to deny. He had not been sleeping when the Prince of Mirkwood and Namek were speaking softly to each other. Nor could he deny the lingering touches. He would do nothing to squelch whatever it was that was brewing unless it would only lead to their ruin. Just yesterday afternoon he had thought of doing just that.  
  
flash~~~  
  
Legolas had been in a well enough mood considering they were chasing down a pack of orc to rescue their friends, but Aragorn noticed that the elf continually looked to their resident giant time and time again. Before Aragorn could finally tell Legolas to just go speak to the Namek, the elf turned to him and stated his intentions of doing just that. Aragorn had nodded, taking deep breaths of air as his thigh muscles groaned in fatigue. He had thought nothing of it until Legolas came running back to him only moments later. Aragorn motioned to Piccolo, curious as to what was happening and nearly stumbled in shock as the elf's striking face snarled and he ran off ahead several paces.  
  
It took much of his will power not to stop their running and demand to know exactly what was going on of all the members. He had watched them sharply for what had remained of the day and when night had fallen he was too tense to sleep even though his exhausted body demanded he do just that. Legolas immediately offered to take first watch, leaping into a nearby tree and Aragorn studied him as the elf glared out of the foliage. When Aragorn turned his head to see what was the cause of Legolas' rage he wasn't surprised to see Piccolo in his line of sight.  
  
Gimli had patted his leg. "Let it be, heir of Isildur. It will work out in time, you'll see." Before he could pose a question, the dwarf tamped out his pipe and rolled over, snoring mightily into his bed.  
  
End flash~~~  
  
Aragorn blinked several times, coming out of his reverie and noticed he was still staring at the tall Namek. Piccolo scowled at him for a moment before looking around at the waking others.  
  
"nn...five more minutes..." Goku whined. Piccolo snorted as he saw Vegeta's stricken expression, still clutched tightly to Goku's chest.  
  
"Shall I help him?" Aragorn asked, chuckling lightly. Piccolo grinned down at him and shrugged.  
  
"Leave him. It'll give us something to irk him with later." Aragorn smiled and nodded, knowing of the Namek's love for torturing his companion, and began to gather his things.  
  
Aragorn paused and searched around himself. "Where is Legolas?" Piccolo's ears perked and he looked around him, adrenaline beginning to race until he felt the elf's ki in a nearby tree. Piccolo pointed up at it and Aragorn nodded. "Would you mind waking him? I would like to leave soon."  
  
Piccolo blinked and sighed as he turned, hoping that Legolas would be in a forgiving mood this morning.  
  
Gimli snorted beside Aragorn and the ranger glanced over at him. "That was an evil thing to do." Gimli grinned, pipe clenched in his teeth.  
  
Aragorn smiled, "Whatever do you mean, Gimli?" His eyes glinted.  
  
"You know full well, laddie. You may have just sent that poor creature to his death." Gimli took one last drag on his pipe and breathed slowly out through his nose.  
  
Laughing, Aragorn winked at his friend. "I doubt that will be the outcome."  
  
Piccolo frowned as he looked up into the tangle of tree limbs. Of course Legolas couldn't be sleeping on the lower branches, he could just see a dangling foot through the leaves and with a grunt hauled his bulk up into the tree. The great oak shuddered lightly as it took on his weight before settling with a little groan.  
  
Climbing carefully, stepping on each limb gingerly and trying to think 'light' thoughts, Piccolo finally hauled himself up beside the elf and waited patiently for Legolas to acknowledge him. Legolas sat there, still as stone, eyes open and peering out into the distance, his long fingers twined together and resting in his lap. Piccolo admired his profile for a moments time—then waited longer still— feeling ignored, he felt a tendril of anger at how childish the elf was being.  
  
Remembering that Aragorn meant to leave very soon, Piccolo cleared his voice of all emotion as he spoke. "Legolas..."  
  
The elf jerked lightly and turned his head, blinking several times. Legolas smiled lightly and flexed his fingers. "Time to leave?"  
  
Piccolo nodded and leapt down from the tree, landing lightly on his feet and waited at the base for the elf to come down from the heights. After some rustling, Legolas landed soundlessly next to Piccolo and looked oddly up at him as the Namek glowered at his feet.  
  
"What is it?" Legolas ran his fingers through his hair, leaves and twigs flittering from its length to the ground.  
  
Piccolo crossed his arms over his chest and Legolas inwardly groaned, knowing from only the few days' travel that the Namek was being defensive of something. Piccolo's voice was low so that the others would not hear. "Are you still angry with me?"  
  
Legolas paused with his hair and frowned before pushing the locks over his shoulders and tugging his tunic on straight. "It is not anger. You have been pardoned your misgivings."  
  
Piccolo looked away and watched as Vegeta had finally successfully pulled himself from Goku's reach and thumped the younger saiyajin in the chest to get him roused. Goku groaned as he sat up, grinning happily at Vegeta as though he didn't see the embarrassed growl and flush of color on the Ouji's face. "Then why were you ignoring me?"  
  
Legolas started and gave him a funny look. "I have not ignored you."  
  
Piccolo turned and looked down his nose to the elf prince. He noticed the genuine confusion on his features and furrowed his brows. "And just now?"  
  
A great, exasperated sigh spilled from Legolas' lips, "Do you usually expect to hold intelligent conversation from others when they are sleeping?  
  
"You were sleeping?" Piccolo's eyes clouded in thought and Legolas laughed heartily.  
  
"What else would one do when they are exhausted?"  
  
"But your eyes..."  
  
Grinning, Legolas playfully punched Piccolo in the shoulder and winced—it was like beating at stone. "Elves sleep with their eyes open, Master Namek." Pulling his pack from the ground and shouldering it, Legolas looked up at his friend. Piccolo was thinking but eventually he nodded and they moved from the tree to where Aragorn and Gimli stood watching them with interest.  
  
Piccolo growled, "What?"  
  
Gimli frowned and passed his tobacco pouch to Aragorn who stood grinning like the Cheshire cat as he dumped the contents into his own small bag. He tossed the empty bag back to the dwarf who stuffed it into his tunic, mumbling something about his favorite blend of tobacco and silly elves.  
  
Ignoring them, Piccolo looked beyond the dwarf to Goku who was grinning happily while packing his things, now and then briefly touching Vegeta for no known reason, the Ouji looked like he was going to stay a light shade of pink. He smirked, it looked like things were finally starting to happen between them and all he could think was it was about damned time.  
  
Meanwhile, Goku watched as his Namekian friend grinned at Legolas as the elf passed him a bladder of water and had giddy thoughts. Piccolo felt the eyes on him and turned.  
  
"You guys would make some interesting looking kids." Goku laughed. The others all came to with a start. Piccolo's jaw dropped open and clacked shut, he turned away, crossing his arms over his chest as a light purple blush colored his cheeks. The others coughed, turning away as well.  
  
Goku scratched the back of his head. "What did I say?" 


	10. Surprises on All Sides

-----

Bulma was sitting in her petticoats, sweating in the humidity that had built in the small shed during the afternoon heat. At first she thought that it would be indecent to strip down to the thinnest of clothing, but as the heat continued to weigh on her and sap her strength, she pulled off the heavy velvet lined dress and grinned as a cooling breeze was able to get at her damp skin.

Working diligently for nearly two hours, the thick air finally stopped her entirely and she leaned against a far wall with her makeshift screwdriver and hammer dropped by her side. Elin came and blushed as she dropped off a pitcher of ice water and fruit slices. Bulma asked her to stay and sit with her, but Elin said she had work to do and left without making eye contact.

A light tap came to the door mere moments later, and Bulma pulled herself from her daze and croaked out a weak, "Come."

The door creaked open and Bulma watched as Lord Elrond slowly backed in, only recognizing him for the ornate headdress and long thick auburn locks. A flush of panic rushed through Bulma's system, but her movements were slow and sluggish from the humidity and she had just barely managed to get a hand curled into the heavy fabric of her dress before Elrond turned with a large covered platter. Bulma watched his face as though it were in digitally sharpened slow-motion.

Slate gray eyes widened as thin lips pulled into a small 'o', composure relaxing face muscles and a small flush of color, fingers twitched and rewrapped before the tray could waver, and those pale lips pulled into a tight frown as one shapely eyebrow crooked.

"I did not know you were not prepared for company." Elrond set the tray on the small table with a thump and turned. "I will send Elin for you in an hour's time to allow you ample time to prepare for supper."

Before Bulma could speak a word in reply, Elrond's robes were swishing across the threshold and the door clicked shut. Slumping back against the wall, Bulma let the garment drop from her grip and sighed heavily. She tried to forget about the lecture that was surly going to come later in the evening about proper attire for a lady and stood with a groan. She took a long draught from her glass and walked to the table and pulled the lid from the tray, inside lined neatly in a row were a set of hand carved tools; three Philips screwdrivers of different sizes, several flat-heads and a short-handled ball-pin hammer. The handles had been inlaid with onyx grips and Bulma breathed in awe as she turned each over in her palms. Not only were they the most beautiful tools she had seen, but they were also balanced and curved perfectly as though made for her palm.

She covered them again and looked down at the mess of cracked and sharpened stones she had been using and giggled. She would have to remember to thank Lord Elrond gratefully later on.

While Bulma surveyed her new tools, Elrond sat in the nearby gardens on a granite bench and mindlessly rolled a rosebud between his fingers. The woman was getting curious and curiouser in her actions, not that the difference in attitude bothered him, what did however was his growing affection for the blue-haired beauty that had fallen from another world. He smiled lightly as he heard a muffled peal of laughter and dusted his robes as he stood. His mission was accomplished for the day, and that happy laughter was all the reward he needed for getting on the nerves of every metal-smith in Rivendell. He shook his head and pushed a braid over his shoulder, it would have been all the better if he could have seen the look on the lady's face, but he wasn't one to snub what he was offered, and he took that giggle happily with him for the rest of the afternoon.

---

They were on the move again. The timothy grass and high weeds whipping across the thighs of the sprinters, but most of the nuances were ignored as duty took precedence over personal comfort. Gimli was puffing like a coal train, trailing the others by several yards, but never so far that he was outside of shouting distance. He grumbled to himself when breath would allow, and grinned happily at sporadic moments at the group that ran before him. The two saiyajins were together again, but now instead of the glances they tried not to let the other catch, they lingered in looks and smiled when the other would notice. Though it wasn't exactly Gimli's cup of tea, he would not begrudge the two warriors for their chosen mates. It was hard enough to find love in a calm and normal world, let alone one that was inches from splitting at the seams.

Heaving the axe higher onto his shoulder, Gimli grunted and continued, frowning down at the thickening weeds at his feet. When he looked up again, he could see Legolas silhouetted in the distance as he peered down a hilltop. Instinctively, Gimli then searched for Piccolo. The two had been nearly attached at the hip since the first days of the journey, or at least as attached as an introverted alien and a fanatical warrior elf can be. But the Namek was running, away from the others again this day, though his spirits looked changed if not lifted. Gimli smiled as they drew closer to the elf, Legolas started pacing along again and he soon joined Piccolo in his silent run.

"There's more than just evil and smoke in the air." Gimli began to laugh but soon was out of breath and began to cough. He slowed a little as it passed and charged on ahead to gain the ground he had lost and mumbled something about his pipe.

Legolas ran quietly, his feet barely making noise through the grass, as he moved along side the Namek. The sky was a hazy red along the horizon and prevailing sense of worry began to eat along his insides. Piccolo, after several minutes slowly seemed to realize the distress in his friend's features.

"What is it?"

Legolas shook his head and mumbled something to himself. Snorting, Piccolo didn't press any further and faced forward again.

After a few moments, Legolas cleared his throat. "I..." Piccolo glanced over, waiting patiently and was surprised to see a light blush crawling up Legolas' cheeks. "I've dreamt of you the past two nights."

Piccolo nearly stumbled over his own feet. He cleared his own throat and tried to hide his growing embarrassment. "Have you?"

Before he could answer, Legolas attention was drawn to Aragorn who had stopped and was crouched low into the trodden earth. The whole procession slowed a moment, Gimli still puffing behind them, trying to catch up. "What is it?"

Aragorn grinned, a silver and green brooch in his palm. "The fallen leaves of Lorien. Our Hobbits are alive."

Legolas beamed and plucked the object from the ranger's hand. He began to run ahead again, turning and seeing the others with a refreshed look of hope. "Hurry Gimli, we're catching up!"

Any previous talk had been forgotten as the troop picked up their pace, open plains stretched before them. Smoke curled in the distance and the exhilaration of the impending battle was already making Vegeta and Piccolo on the verge of being giddy.

Legolas ran beside Aragorn at the front and Piccolo frowned despite himself, not even knowing he was bothered by it. At the crest of the next hill, Aragorn clutched Legolas by his tunic front and hauled him into a crop of rocks. A spike of anger struck Piccolo to the core and was so intense he felt the outer ridges of his vision blur into burgundy. Vegeta punched him in the arm, and hissed at him. Piccolo was beyond hearing, but Vegeta grabbed him by the cape and hauled him into the rocks as well.

The group sat, all of them, Legolas peering between two boulders through a fissure. Piccolo gnashed his teeth and Vegeta finally let him go, but not before soundly punching the Namek in the gut. Doubled over, Piccolo gasped for air and could taste blood on the back of his tongue. Vegeta was on his knees next to him and hissed into his ear, "What do you think you're doing? Stop drooling over the elf and pay attention!"

Piccolo would have growled if he had breath and instead settled on a vicious stare that only made the saiyajin prince grin. A steady tread of horses drew closer and in a thundering roar moved on by. Aragorn leapt from his position and yelled to them.

"Riders of the North! What news from Rohan?" The Fellowship moved from the rocks to stand beside their leader, Piccolo frowning at his own absentmindedness glared down at Vegeta with his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

The group of riders slowly turned, their leader drawing near and stopping, a tight circle of horseflesh binding them all to one spot. "What business does three men, a dwarf, an elf..." The leader's eyes fell upon Piccolo and they narrowed as he drew his sword from its sheath. "And an orc have in Rohan?"

Growling Piccolo widened his stance and prepared to leap at the man and render him limb from limb, but Gimli stepped forward. "He is no orc, Horse master. And our business is our own."

The leader smirked, leaping down from his saddle. "I would slay you, dwarf, if your head stood but a foot higher from the ground."

There was a blur of motion to the left and an arrow was pointed in the middle of the leader's forehead, Legolas was frowning deeply down the shaft at the surprised leaders face. "You would die before your blade fell."

Swords, pikes and bows were drawn, and the circle of Fellowship drew tighter together, all prepared for the fight, save one. Aragorn drew breath and settled his hand on Legolas bow. "We are searching for our friends. They were taken by orc and we've trailed them here."

The leader nodded his head to his troops and the weapons were withdrawn. "We slew a pack of orc last evening."

"Did you see two Hobbits?" Gimli's anxious voice carried to them.

"They would be no more than children to your eyes." Aragorn explained.

The leader shook his head. "We saw none of the like. They are slain and we burned the bodies." The leader looked to his feet before meeting Aragorn's eyes. "...We left none alive."

Gimli dropped his head, Legolas rested a hand on the dwarfs shoulder and squeezed.

Piccolo's mind whirred. They were dead. Was this what the lady had meant by her cryptic messages? Piccolo growled, if he had left the other night as he wanted he could have saved them.

It took a moment for him to realize that the crowds of horsemen were drawing away and Legolas had leapt onto a horse, drawing Gimli up behind him. Aragorn horsed and facing the horizon. The three of the senshi still stood with feet on the ground. Aragorn looked down on them and frowned. "We all cannot ride at once. Will you be able to keep pace for a time? We can switch off when you grow weary."

Vegeta grinned and elbowed Goku in the ribs. "You just get those beasts to keep up." Goku beamed and the two took off toward a smoldering pit far in the distance. Aragorn watched them a moment with his mouth agape, the saiyajins were no longer holding back to keep with the pack.

Legolas looked after them and then turned to Piccolo. "That's incredible."

Snorting, Piccolo nodded. "Bunch of showoffs."

At first, Piccolo ran a little behind the horses as they went, but seeing Vegeta in his mind smirking at him and mocking him for being slow, he growled and took off in a blur of jade and violet.

The horses jerked with a start and Legolas caught Aragorn's gaze and smiled wide. There was something new to these creatures from another world that they were being shown everyday. And somewhere deep in his mind he knew that what he had seen was only the smallest fraction of it.

Goku and Vegeta were standing next to a pile of ash and burnt flesh, the smell was so staggering that Piccolo didn't know how they could stand there with their saiyajin noses. Covering his nose with a palm, Piccolo frowned at the massacre field covered in blood and limbs.

The riders arrived moments after and walked around the wreckage with solemn faces. Gimli gave a strangled cry and held a piece of charred leather in his hand. "One of their belts." He drew breath and held it, Legolas bending on knee began to speak quietly in elvish.

Piccolo took the belt from Gimli and glared down at it as though it was the cause of the Hobbits' deaths.

"Calm down, Namek." Piccolo looked down and saw Vegeta. The prince was gazing at the curling smoke that rose in the air. "If they are dead, it is how it is supposed to be. If we had not been brought here, do you think they would have survived?"

Frowning, Piccolo sat down next to Goku and gave him the remains of leather. Vegeta stood behind Goku. When the prince spoke, his voice was low and angry. "They shouldn't have been here in the first place."

"They are creatures from this world, they had every right to be here." Legolas stood from beside the mound of flesh and frowned.

Vegeta snorted, eyes ablaze with some new fire. "They were only as children, drug into something they thought was a game."

Tension rose as Legolas strode forward, standing directly in front of Vegeta. "You find our plight is a game, Master Saiyajin?"

"Fool. If you could see half of what I alone have faced you would not speak to me with such a mighty tone." Vegeta flexed his hands, the bones along his knuckles popping.

Gimli and Goku watched on in transfixed awe, waiting for the first punch to be thrown as Legolas bellied up to the shorter saiyajin and sneered down into his face. Piccolo stood up with a jolt and gripped Legolas' and Vegeta's capes in each hand, drawing them apart.

"Enough!" Piccolo looked between the two, Legolas had already backed down but still stood rigid and ready for any excuse to continue; Vegeta was still spitting venom. "Look, Vegeta. It seems stupid for them to be here when they are weak, but who are you to deny them their right to fight for their freedom."

From the corner of his eye, Piccolo saw Legolas smirk. Turning, he faced the fair elf and frowned deeply. "And you, you have no idea what powers we've faced and the hundreds of innocent lives they have taken." Piccolo released them both then and sighed when he saw Legolas turn away in anger and Vegeta cross his arms over his chest to stare into the distance.

Aragorn cleared his throat and called to them from across the field. He stood with his hands on his hips and was smiling lightly. "Enough harsh tongues, we have two Hobbits to catch."

Goku grinned and tugged at Vegeta, practically dragging the saiyajin prince behind him. Gimli was at their heels and beaming, ready to slew through the layers of trees and find his two lost friends. Piccolo paused when he noticed that Legolas was not moving.

"Fangorn Forest..." Legolas voice was a whisper and Piccolo took the time to actually look at the trees. They were thick and wide, covered in deep mosses so dark they looked nearly black. No smell of death came from them, but a hint of age, centuries old, left a cold shiver along his back.

Gimli too was staring into the trees as the two caught up. "What madness drove them in there?" Vegeta snorted and looked over his shoulder at the mounds of smoldering bodies. Gimli followed his line of sight and grunted, scratching at his thick beard.

"Come, we have to find them. These forests are dangerous." Aragorn stepped into the first line of trees and squinted into the prevailing darkness.

They filed in, cautious to every rustle of leaf or groan of trunk. Piccolo walked along side Aragorn, oddly feeling at ease beside the Ranger in these forests. Legolas' quiet voice was right in his ear, and Piccolo felt another shiver along his spine. This one not so cold.

"The trees are old...very old." Legolas spun slowly, gazing into the canopy that let in very little light. The trees creaked and he cocked his head to the side, listening as they whispered to each other. Piccolo tried to listen, but was shaken from his trance when a strong hand gripped his arm. "Danger is coming."

Aragorn whispered to them as they gathered around in a semi circle. "The white wizard...be prepared, don't let his sorcery work on you."

A blaring white light scorched the nearby trees; Vegeta and Goku hissed and shaded their eyes from the sting. Legolas let loose an arrow but it was easily deflected, Aragorn's blade began to glow crimson as it heated and he dropped with a sharp cry and made a fist, preparing for whatever came next.

Goku frowned and settled a hand on Piccolo's shoulder. "That ki...it's familiar." Vegeta tensed and nodded his head but before they could ask any questions the light faded, leaving burned imprints on pupils.

Gimli was the first to react and fell to his knees with a gasp. Legolas quickly following suit. Gandalf stood before them, robed in white so bright it seemed to radiate light. Aragorn was torn as he stepped forward. "It cannot be...Gandalf?"

The wizard blinked and moments later began to grin. "Yes...that is what they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey."

"The Fellowship is broken, we are trailing Merry and Pippin...have you seen them?" Legolas voice bordered on pleading.

"The Hobbits..." Gandalf tugged at the end of his beard and nodded.

"They are fine. I have sent them on a mission." A collective tension seemed to lift from the shoulders off all those in front of him. Gandalf regarded them all separately, smiling lightly at each of them until his gaze came to the Namek that stood toward the back. The small smirk fell from his lips and the wizard shook his head to clear his mind to the job at hand.

"We have our own task ahead, and it will be no easy one. Come. We ride to Rohan." Gandalf held his arm wide and they all passed by him to the plains, smiling widely at their fortune. Gandalf nodded his head to them as they went, Piccolo at the back of the pack. Gandalf lowered his arm and blocked the alien's path. Piccolo eyed him suspiciously and Gandalf regarded him with the same curious looks. "Master Namek, there is much I must discuss with you later...alone."

Gandalf moved from the trees, Piccolo watched him go, forcing himself to keep from flying after the wizard and throttling him until he either told him what he wanted or died again. Piccolo was torn from his thoughts as Legolas waved at him from atop his dapple-grey mare. "Oy, Piccolo. Come, it is a day's hard ride to Edoras."

Piccolo nodded and stepped from the trees, scowling fiercely at everyone that moved by him. Gandalf strode in front of him, atop Shadowfax, and paused. "Tonight, at Edoras, meet me on the bluffs at the suns set."

Narrowing his eyes, Piccolo prepared to rend into the white wizard, but Gandalf rode off quickly, not even sparing a glance to the frustrated Namek.

---

Sarumon stood on the balcony high in the upper tower of Isengard. He grinned down on the growing number of troops like a sadist watches living flesh peeled from bone. With the masses growing, it would only be time—and very little at that—until everything was perfect. Sauron's flaming eye glared harshly into the wilderness, waiting patiently for the small group of would-be hero's to mess up. Worm-tongue had only recently reported that everything was faring well in Rohan, yet another stepping stone that had been reached and was yet to be destroyed. Sarumon's grin increased and he tugged at the tip of his beard. A bulb of light burst far in the distance nearly two leagues from the tower. Sarumon frowned, squinting out into the distance, trying to rightly place what could cause such a brunt of light in a place where darkness prevailed.

Before long, cries rang through the throngs of orcs. Small explosions shook the foundations of Isengard and Sarumon fumed, gripping his staff until his knuckles were white. "What madness dares defy Lord Sauron?"

Leaning over the balcony rail, Sarumon squinted again down into the masses of his men that cried in rage and some in terror. A ball of white was bouncing around them, moving so quickly it was a blurred streak of light. Rage ate up in his insides and Sarumon took a great breath, "Fools, you would let a stranger challenge Lord Sauron! Kill them, and bring me their head!"

A crackle of energy radiated from the ground as a pile of Urak-hai blew apart in raining entrails. Sarumon's mouth hung agape as he watched the strongest of his legions felled by one being. A light chuckle sounded from behind him, and Sarumon turned, staff held high and ready to strike. A creature stood there, clothed in silks, bejeweled in silver and sapphire. Thick green hair was pulled back in a low tail, and a small smirk of bow- shaped lips was set in a powder blue face.

"Greetings Lord Sarumon. If it would please you, my Lord asks your forgiveness in testing your troops." The beast cocked his head and gazed down into the fields where what was a white blur was standing still and slowly lifting from the ground. Gold eyes turned back to Sarumon. "Forgive me for being rude, my name is Zarbon." A small compact figure settled on the balcony rim, a thick white tail slashing the air behind. "And this is my Lord Freeza, we are here for your assistance."

---

Lord Elrond sat in his study, a frown of concentration on his face as he shuffled through several papers on his desk. Time was running short, and he needed to soon make up his mind. Either he sends the order for the elves to set sail, or they could stay and fight—and die. Taking a deep breath, the Elvin lord held it as he pinched the bridge of his nose. A tapping on his study door made him gladly release the papers.

"Come." Elhorir and Elladan entered, both looking a little flustered. Apprehension gripped Elrond's insides like a vice, it took something of great magnitude to bother his twin sons. "What is it?"

"Ada, there is a visitor who wishes to speak to you." Elhorir spoke calmly, his face set as stone. Elrond's eyes narrowed. "Who is it?" The failure of mischievous grins between his children was only adding to the dread.

Elladan cleared his throat. "I think it would be best answered if you meet with him. The Lady Bulma has already been called."

"The Lady? Why is she needed?" Elrond's eyes widened in surprise. Elladan and Elhorir exchanged a quick look. "Because it is her son that wishes to speak to you."


	11. Tales of a Lilac Hero

----

They had been charging across the open plains of the Rohorim for some hours, this time in the need to contain and conserve their energy, Goku, Vegeta and Piccolo kept along with the riders instead of barreling ahead. Of course, the fact that they knew not were Edoras was only added to their need to stay with the group.

It was somewhere into the second hour of running that all three stopped so abruptly that Aragorn had to haul back on his reigns to keep from trampling them and clung tightly to his horses mane to keep from being thrown forward off of his steed. Luckily, Legolas had seen it and quickly reeled his horse sideways, nearly getting his ribs crushed as Gimli squeezed him to keep from falling off.

"What do you think you're doing? I could have killed one of you!" Aragorn's chest heaved as his anger slowly faded with the adrenaline. He opened his mouth to speak again and demand an answer when he saw how fiercely they were scowling off into the distance—looking off toward Mount Doom.

Goku was the first to speak and he spoke only to his two friends. "Do you feel that?" Vegeta nodded as did Piccolo.

"What is going on?" Legolas rode up beside Aragorn and watched the trio queerly.

"I do not know." Aragorn frowned, only sparing a glance away from them as Gandalf rode up.

Vegeta shivered, "It's impossible. He's dead." The riders looked among each other, totally lost to the conversation and growing steadily uneasy. Goku nodded, still not looking away from the southeast.

"I know Vegeta. And as impossible as it seems, I don't think it could be anyone else." Goku frowned deeply.

"Will someone tell me what is happening?" Aragorn growled out. The three turned, still looking now and then over their shoulders into the distance.

Goku looked up at the rider and Aragorn could see a change in him that both enthralled him and frightened him. "If what we feel is right, there's a horror here that is going to be far worse than anything you have ever seen…and that includes that Sauron guy."

Aragorn snorted, but saw how very serious the saiyajin was. "What is it?"

Piccolo drew a quick intake of breath, drawing their attention. A large bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face and his eyes had grown wide. "Kami, he's stronger than before." He turned his frightened eyes to the tallest saiyajin. "Goku, we can't beat him like this."

Goku nodded his head and bit his lip in thought. Silence stretched between them all, the people of Middle Earth too shaken to question as the strangers reflected. Legolas watched Piccolo intently and knew that something was serious. Not only for the fact that the three fastest and strongest beings he had ever met were worried, but that they were terrified.

Finally, after a little courage building, Gimli cleared his throat. "Who is that is so strong?"

Vegeta turned his hard eyes to the dwarf. "Freeza." The word fell from his mouth like a brick. Legolas sat a little straighter and Gimli looked up at him as the Elf gazed at the trio in awed shock.

Aragorn had noticed and questioned his friend with his gaze. Legolas looked down at Piccolo and the Namek nodded his head lightly. Turning back Legolas neared his horse to the two men. "From what I have been told, the creature destroyed the home worlds of both Vegeta and Piccolo." Gimli furrowed his bushy eyebrows.

"How can he destroy an entire world?" Gimli's gruff voice was low.

Legolas shrugged his shoulders and gazed seriously between them. "Very easily apparently."

Vegeta whirled quite suddenly and his mouth gaped. "What the fuck is going on?"

Goku and Piccolo stared at him for a moment before they too turned. Goku scratched the back of his head. "Is that Mirai Trunks?"

Piccolo nodded his head. A sudden grin split his face and a harsh bark of laughter came with it. "Do you feel that? The kids' stronger than ever, and his ki isn't being suffocated." Goku grinned and nodded his head, clapping Vegeta on the back.

The riders again looked at them confused. Piccolo smiled at them, "Some cavalry came along."

Gandalf shook his shaggy head and cleared his throat. "Enough of this for now. Time is still waning and there is still a need for us at Edoras." Goku gazed into the distance a moment longer before he nodded and the group moved off again at a faster pace.

Piccolo ran along side Legolas and Gimli, deep in thought. Legolas, not able to contain the question any longer called over the whistling wind. "Who is Mirai Trunks?"

Piccolo looked up at him, a flicker of emotion crossing his eyes that Legolas could not name. A small knot curled in the elf's stomach but he pushed it aside. "He is Vegeta's son."

Legolas frowned. "Then he is only a boy?"

Piccolo shook his head. "He isn't a boy. And he may be our only chance."

----

Mirai Trunks stood in a large open room and gazed out one of the tall windows into the gardens. In only a moment he saw his mother emerge from a neat shed at its side and a wide grin split his face. Even covered in dirt and grease she was still beautiful.

Ki piqued somewhere in the distance and the smile slid off of his face. This was not a social visit to his mother that was for certain. The Bulma of his time had died not two months ago and the pain from her passing was still etched into him. As selfish as it had seemed to him at the time, he decided he would return to the Earth of this much younger Bulma's time and stay for a while.

It had only taken him a moment to land his pod and leap from it, passing by his younger self in eager anticipation. But before he had a chance to even make it into Capsule Corps, the earth rocked hard under his feet and he stared around him in shock. Not five minutes later Bunny came running from the house looking for her grandson and paused as she saw two of them.

Mirai grinned as he saw her and she quickly hugged him before exploding with information.

"Your mother is gone!" She exclaimed, her shrill voice cutting into his ears. "With Vegeta, Goku and Piccolo!"

Mouths gaping, both Trunks' turned to each other and quickly began to ask questions of the panicked woman. Slowly, the information they needed was given and Mirai hurried to his time machine, already flipping switches to get the machine to follow the ion trail left behind to find them when familiar ki's flared to life on the earth's surface and his spine ran cold.

Freeza, Zarbon and Dodoria took no time in arriving at Capsule Corps, smiles of malice on their faces and smoking craters of destruction at their backs.

"Where is your monkey prince?" Freeza's effeminate voice called.

Mirai felt a snarl of anger on his face. "My father is not here."

An evil chuckle rolled across the green lawn and Mirai could feel his younger self tremble in rage. Bunny was clutching her grandson's shirt and cowered behind him.

"That's right!" She peeped. "They've gone off in a time machine, they could be anywhere!"

Trunks turned and gaped openly at his Grandmother, she already had her hands clasped over her mouth, a look of dread in her eyes.

Freeza scowled, "To think I had to claw my way out of Hell to kill that damned saiyajin and he hasn't the courtesy to be home." With a grunt he nodded at Dodoria, the squat alien grinned and began to charge at them.

"Trunks, get her away from here!" Mirai called, but the boy was already running with Bunny tucked under his arm.

Dodoria grinned, using Mirai's temporary lack of attention and gripped a handful of long lilac hair, using it as an anchor to haul Mirai's face into his barreling fist. Zarbon zipped by in a flash of color and grinned down at the monitors of the time machine.

"My Lord! We can follow them by using this."

Mirai growled, elbowing Dodoria in his large stomach, and began to gather energy for an attack. Before he could throw it, Mirai was tackled from behind and was tumbled to the ground, the attack forgotten.

Freeza was already inside the bubble flipping switches when Mirai was getting to his feet. "Dodoria! I am going after the monkeys for a little fun. When I return, this planet better be dead."

Dodoria saluted and grinned, "Yes, Lord!"

Mirai, held out his hand and screamed, but the time machine flickered out of sight just before his blast could hit. Growling in frustration, he turned his anger on Dodoria who was quickly gathering energy. With a howl of rage, Mirai jumped to an ascended super saiyajin and grabbed his fleshy throat.

Dodoria gurgled in surprise and swung his fists and feet at the young saiyajin, but Mirai would have none of it and clenched his fist for all of its worth. The gurgling ceased and Dodoria's eyes bugged. With a flick of Mirai's wrist, Dodoria was airborn. A growl of disgust and a flash of ki and the alien's ashes fluttered to the earth.

Dropping back to normal, Mirai quickly reached into his pocket and clicked a capsule that he held in his palm. Throwing it onto the grass, a new time machine sat gleaming in the sunlight. Trunks and Goten soon ran from the Capsule Corps building, ready for a fight and gazed at the emptiness in shock.

Mirai looked at his teenage self, "Trunks, gather the dragonballs and wish everyone back that's been killed or hurt. I'm going after Freeza, and hopefully find Goku before he does."

As he stepped inside, Trunks called out to him. "Wait! Mirai there was something wrong with mom's machine, it took all kinds of stuff with them."

Mirai frowned, if things outside of the time machine went, there was a problem with the shielding, and that could mean bad news. Fumbling with a button inside of the machine, a small pocket opened and Mirai pulled a vial from inside. He read the label carefully and grinned.

"It's okay Chibi, I think I've got something that will help." He smiled gratefully at his twin flipped a switch to pick up the trail, the ions were fading fast and he had no time to debate any further. With a small wave, he pressed his thumb to the ignition button and found himself moments later surrounded by trees and bunch of shocked elves that were currently looking into the empty stolen pod.

As he stepped from machine, two identical elves walked toward him, eyeing him curiously. "You've come just like the others…"

Mirai blinked in surprise. "What others?"

The twins looked at each other and then back, "The Lady Bulma and her friends."

Trunks rushed at them, barely noticing the slew of arrows that were now aimed at his head. He clasped the nearest by the shoulders and stared openly down at his lovely face. "Where is she? I need to speak to them!"

The twin in his grasp only stared oddly at him, the other touched Trunks' hand with his own cool one. "The Lady is at Rivendell, the others have gone."

Releasing the elf, Mirai ran a hand through his hair and ground the heel of his hand into one eye in concentration.

"Elladan, we must take him back. It is apparent it is very important." The twin Trunks had not handled spoke.

Elladan nodded. "Come, we will make introductions and you will tell your story on the way." Trunks nodded and began to walk to his pod. "Do not worry, we will send others to get your 'machine'."

Trunks smiled at them, not noticing the look exchanged between the two and shook his head. "That's okay, I've got it." Pushing on a small panel, Trunks flipped it open and pressed the button hidden inside and the machine re-encapsulated itself with a small click.

He turned back to them and saw the dozen or so elves all watching him carefully in awe. He looked down at the capsule in his hand and grinned before turning and encapsuling his stolen machine as well.

As they began walking, Elrohir gazed at him. "Are you a sorcerer?" Taken a little aback at the question, Trunks laughed and shook his head.

"No. It's just the way the machine works."

Elrohir nodded his head and looked quickly away to his brother. Soon, the conversation turned to darker matters, and Trunks told them what they needed to know without getting too detailed. What bothered him the most was that the two seemed to understand all too perfectly.

Now, as he stood waiting, the door behind him opened and Mirai turned as the twins entered, a slightly taller elf in tow. He nodded politely to them and smiled, the twins nodding back and stepping from their father's way.

"I am Lord Elrond." The other spoke calmly. Trunks nodded once and glanced out the window, but his mother was already gone from sight.

"Please, sit." Lord Elrond motioned to a chair before sitting elegantly across from him. Elrohir and Elladan sat beside each other on a love seat, gaze steady on the stranger that sat before them.

Before anything further could be said, Bulma was ushered into the room but was talking to someone behind her. "What's going on? What is so important?" Bulma huffed and turned as the door was shut behind her before she shrieked and pointed.

"Trunks?" Bulma stepped forward, not noticing the watchful eyes of the Elvin lord and his sons.

Mirai stood with a small smile and Bulma barreled into him, squeezing him in a tight hug before stepping away, fingers pushing his long hair from his face. Trunks blushed brightly as she began to flutter around him, touching his hair and tugging on his clothes. Elrohir and Elladan looked at each other and grinned.

"Mother." Trunks voice was quiet, his embarrassment apparent.

Bulma paused, smiling lightly. "I'm sorry. It's just been so long!" She beamed at him. "You look fantastic. I always did like you with long hair, you're very handsome." Her smile widened as his blush grew darker. "It's a pity I can't talk my son into growing his out. He demands that same blasted cut every time."

Trunks nodded, "I know, I went home before I followed you here." His face grew serious.

"Trunks, what is it?" Bulma sat down beside him, pushing another lock of lilac hair from his face.

"Why I'm here, it's Freeza, somehow he's gotten out of Hell." When Trunks looked up at her, the twins nearly gasped at the stern and vicious features.

Bulma, however, did gasp. "Oh my Kami! Is he destroying the Earth? We need to find Goku and Vegeta!"

"No, Mother." Bulma furrowed her brows. "He's here."

Bulma's mouth fell open, at a complete loss for words. Mirai turned from her, gazing at the twins a moment before turning to Lord Elrond. "I don't know how much of our past you know, but the beings that came here before I did are very evil, and very strong."

Elrond pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply.

"I'm sorry to bring you such news, but you have to understand that I need to find Goku and my father." Trunks looked between the elves.

Elrond nodded his head slowly, "Of course. There is only one problem. They could be anywhere by now, it could take some time to trace them."

Trunks stood and stalked to a window, peering out into the trees. A quiet sob broke his train of thought and he turned to see his mother in tears. He quickly ran to her, falling onto his knees and holding onto her hands. "It's alright, I can find them. I can feel them, but only barely."

Bulma shook her head. "That's not it. Trunks, your father…and Goku and Piccolo…they don't have any powers here! How are they going to stop that monster from destroying this planet?"

Trunks shrugged out of his jacket, pulling out the vial from his coat pocket and setting it on the floor. "I sort of figured that out." He grinned at her surprise. "Your Trunks is pretty bright. He told me that you guys all jumped with a bunch of stuff."

Bulma nodded her head. "Goku was the only one in the machine, the rest of us were just standing around it."

Mirai nodded. "Your shield is calibrated wrong." Bulma gaped at him. "What? I'm the son of a genius, something had to rub off."

She giggled, wiping a tear from her cheek. "So how are we going to fix your father?"

Trunks held up the vial. "With this. Here." He screwed the small glass cylinder down into a small pump. "Breath out as much as you can." Bulma looked oddly at him, but did as he asked. Just as she was going to breathe in, he sprayed a mist directly into her face and she gasped, choking.

"Trunks what are you doing?!" She shrieked. Mirai grinned at her.

"Feel any different?"

Bulma paused, "No…"

Mirai shrugged. "Well, just in case. I'm pretty sure this stuff is going to work, it's a ki enhancer, and in this case I think it's going to help Dad and Goku break out of whatever it is that's blocking them."

Bulma took the gadget from her sons hand and looked it over. She frowned at him. "This stuff is mostly senzu bean…in liquid form."

Trunks nodded. "It was the last thing my mom invented." He looked away, not able to meet Bulma's gaze.

"You mean…" Bulma trailed off and looked down at her future sons head. "Oh, honey!" She cradled his head in her lap and pet his hair.

Elrond cleared his throat, and gazed at them in slight confusion. Bulma met his eyes and smiled a little. "It's complicated."

Elrond nodded. "Somehow, I knew you were going to say that. It is not important." Elrond looked over at his sons, they were holding each others hands and looking sadly down at the young man sobbing into his mothers skirt.

With a final hiccup, Trunks wiped at his eyes and glanced at the others embarrassed. He looked out the window again and stood pacing to it. He leaned on the window sill, feeling the breeze on his tear wet cheeks and breathed deeply. The sun was setting, and as much as he needed to find his father and Goku, it would be hard to find them in the dark, let alone with such a weak signal and moving.

He turned and sat on the sill, Bulma had picked his jacket from the floor and folded it neatly over her lap and was watching him quietly, much like the others. He pushed the hair from his face and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, I think the best time for me to go is in the morning and work with the sunlight." He sighed. Elrond nodded and stood.

"A chamber will be made ready for you." Elrond looked over at his sons, whose attention were riveted to the man leaning against the wall in the tight black muscle shirt and he shook his head. "Is there anything you need before then?"

Trunks looked at his feet a moment before nodding. "I wouldn't mind a quiet place to do my kata. I'm kind of wound up with all that's going on." He laughed lightly. "If I don't, I don't think I'll get any sleep."

Elrond nodded sagely. "You may use the archery fields as your friends did before they left. As long as you promise not to destroy any more trees." Trunks' jaw dropped open and Elrond smiled lightly at him.

Elrohir and Elladan stood. "We'll show him, Ada."

Elrond nodded and stopped them at the door. He narrowed his eyes at them, making sure that Trunks was busy talking with Bulma. "Do not cause any trouble for our guest. I do not even want to know what your minds are whirling with." The twins gave him identical grins and he sighed.

Trunks gave his jacket to his mother, showing her the capsules in the pockets and various items she may need to aid her with her machine. He kissed her cheek and slung his sword across his back before following the twins out into the hall.

Elrond walked beside Bulma as they trailed their children. As they began to turn down a separate hall he called out to them. "_Na quel._" The twins nodded and the three soon disappeared.

Bulma turned to him with a questioning look. Elrond touched a slender finger to his chin. "They are up to something."

"They aren't going to do something awful are they?" Bulma walked beside him, gauging his face for a reaction.

Surprisingly Elrond laughed. "That would depend on your son's reaction." Bulma opened her mouth to question further, but Elrond held up a hand. "I would not worry. Now if it would please you, I would like to know more about just what we are facing."

Bulma nodded her head and followed Lord Elrond back to his study, wondering just where she should begin.

----

Trunks stood out in the open fields, smiling lightly at the scenery. If he weren't here for such a reason, he would have enjoyed lounging through the trees all day. As it was, there were very few places left in his time that even held the healthy shade of green. A sweet wind blew by him and he breathed deeply from it and grinned, showing sharp, even teeth. Elladan and Elrohir stood off to the side, not willing to leave unless the man asked them to. He turned to them, and they held their breath waiting for the disappointment. Instead, Trunks took the sword from his shoulders and held it out to them. Gingerly, Elrohir took it from his grasp and nearly fell over at the sudden weight.

Trunks laughed lightly, "Sorry, I keep forgetting it's that heavy." Stretching, Trunks was oblivious to the appreciative looks he received from the two elves as he pulled and posed, trying to relax his muscles.

Leisurely, Mirai began his kata, deliberate movements that were performed achingly slow and looked nearly impossible. While bent over backward, nearly double and rising his legs so that he stood on his palms, Trunks looked up at the faces of the twins and smiled lightly. "You can join me if you'd like?"

The twins looked at each other and then back to him before laughing. "I do not think my spine is capable of such movement." Elladan grinned.

Elrohir nodded his agreement, "Not everyone is built like a cat."

Trunks blushed and continued, feeling two sets of eyes watch him. Slowly the kata began to increase in speed and endurance and before long Trunks was in the middle of the field, covered in sweat and panting. Elrohir and Elladan had seated themselves in the grass, both looking a little flushed.

Trunks stretched his spine and paused, feeling much better than he had earlier. He turned to them and a light smell of arousal was brought to him from a breeze. His face already flushed with color hid the blush that quickly filled his face. "Would you like to see something?"

Elladan and Elrohir blinked, looked at each other and then nodded eagerly. Mirai grinned and slowly began to build the ki around him, gathering it deliberately slowly and yelling as he normally would. The twins' eyes widened as they watched, neither could break away.

Finally with small flickers of light, Trunks ceased his vocals and pulled the remaining energy to him, and stood before them glowing in soft golden light. The twins stood, walking carefully toward him. Within ten feet they could feel the power radiating off of him and they stopped, afraid of what that power would do to them if they continued.

Mirai frowned a little. "I won't hurt you." Elrohir looked into the turquoise eyes and nearly melted into a puddle. Trunks saw the color drain from his face and mistook his look, thinking the elf was going to faint. Stepping forward he grabbed hold of the elf and looked him over carefully. He smiled lightly, Elrohir didn't look like he was going to faint at all, in fact his eyes were bright and clear and he seemed far more alert than moments before.

He spared a glance to Elladan, and saw that the other looked offended. Trunks released his brother and looked between them, thoroughly confused. He powered down quickly, thick lilac hair tumbling into his face.

Both elves looked at him again in awe, and Mirai sighed deeply. He stepped around them and walked quietly to the edge of the field and bent to retrieve his sword. As it was slung across his back, Elladan called out to him.

"Trunks, forgive us for being so brazen." Elladan came to a stop, standing close enough so that the heat from his body could be felt on Trunks' sweat chilled skin. Mirai looked at the elf and studied his face carefully. They were both very beautiful, fine boned features and heather gray eyes. The side of Trunks' mouth quirked up, he had never seen anyone with eyes that color before.

Elrohir stood beside his brother, watching carefully the scrutiny his brother was receiving only to catch his breath as bright azure eyes turned to study him in turn. Those eyes burned trails across his face and he dared glance to his brother and found Elladan looking at them so powerfully he thought he would push them over with its intensity. Eyes returning to the man before him, Elrohir swallowed quietly as Mirai smiled softly and dipped his head in a quick chaste kiss.

Before Elrohir even had time to comprehend what had happened, Trunks swiftly turned his head and caught his brothers lips just as shamelessly. Stepping back, Mirai looked between them in the growing dark. "I would say you were forgiven." He turned on his heel and walked into the entry and disappeared within.

Elladan faced his brother, eyes wide in wonderment. Elrohir mirrored his brother for a moment before he grinned widely. He took hold of his brother's arm and together they walked soundlessly into the castle.

---

_Na quel = Be good._


	12. Gandalf's Request

Trunks stood on the balcony of his chambers, a towel wrapped tightly at his waist as he dripped lightly rose-scented water onto the floor. He had bathed on his return, and now stood staring up into the alien sky, feeling a little at ease that somewhere, one of his friends was doing the same and he felt a little less alone.

Quiet conversation was heard from below, and Trunks leaned over the rim to see down and recognized the twins as they walked the paths between the buildings bound for the dining hall. It was nearly time for supper. Grinning, he stepped back and entered his room, drying himself quickly with a flare of ki and dressing in a pair of loose cream colored leggings and snug white shirt. Even as a teen, he had felt more comfortable with his clothes in such a manner. He smirked at his reflection in a mirror and ignored the fact that he reminded himself strongly of Vegeta. He had never thought himself vain, but tonight after the little event of the evening, he felt he would at least use some of the handsome features him mother always claimed he had.

Pulling on stiff leather boots, he ran his fingers through his hair and entered the hall, bound for the dining room. Hopefully he would meet some of the other elves and learn some of this world's history. He had found it quite intriguing so far.

---

Arwen smiled happily at her family as they chattered over the day's events. Lady Bulma sat across from her and they began to talk quietly about love and happiness. Much like every other time they sat down together. Before long, Elladan and Elrohir entered the dining hall, grinning about some secret or another and Arwen nodded to them as they sat beside her. "What are you two scheming now?"

Elrohir managed to look hurt, "My dear sister, how it pains me when you speak so!"

Elladan nodded enthusiastically, "I quite agree. It is very hard to remain happy when everyone seems so suspicious all the time. Surely we are not so bothersome."

Arwen rolled her eyes and turned back to Bulma. "I heard your son is here, I have not yet met him."

At the man's mention, the twins stilled a moment before quickly carrying on loudly. Bulma giggled. "Yes he is. He should be down to eat, he has quite an appetite."

Arwen smiled. "If he is anything like his father as you say, I would think that is an understatement."

Bulma playfully slapped at Arwen's hand and giggled again. The twins stilled quite suddenly again and Arwen looked at them in surprise before following their gaze. She smiled lightly and looked back to Bulma.

Trunks stood in the door way, feeling a little out of place. It appeared that he was a little late, the table was already lined with many people and most of them though still talking quietly were watching him as he walked to his place by his mother's side.

Elrohir, who sat directly next to his sister, began to fidget. And much to Arwen's amusement, the closer the young man got, the more flustered her brothers looked.

Before Trunks had quite reached the table Arwen grinned wickedly at her brothers. "It is a rare treat to find someone who has you wound around their fingers instead of the other way around."

Elladan tore his gaze away from Trunks to glare at his sister. "Do not be so rude, Arwen. We have only just met him."

Grinning, Arwen gave them both a knowing look and was pleased to see a light blush along their cheekbones.

Trunks paused before his chair and kissed his mother's cheek. "Hello, Mother." He pulled the chair away from the table and sat down delicately, smiling slyly at the twins across from him. "Elrohir, Elladan." He nodded to them and Arwen watched in quiet amusement as the twins nodded in return.

Bulma sighed heavily and Mirai turned to face her. "Trunks, you know I love your hair, but you can't keep it in your face all the time." The exasperation in her tone made him smile lovingly at her. "Here," Bulma took the cuff of her dress and began to pull on a string.

"Don't do that! You'll ruin it!" Trunks admonished but Bulma clucked her tongue.

"I can hem it up again later. Now here." She handed him the length and smiled reassuringly at him as he pulled the hair from his face and tied it at the nape of his neck.

"Better?" He glanced at the twins for their reaction before looking at Bulma.

Bulma beamed. "Much." Arwen cleared her throat delicately and Bulma slapped herself in the forehead. "I'm sorry Lady Arwen. Trunks, this is the Lady Arwen, Arwen, this is my son Trunks."

"I'm glad to have finally met you." Arwen smiled. Trunks stood and bowed lightly at the waist, taking her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles.

"A pleasure." Trunks sat again, feeling a little foolish for being so excessive. But the look on the twins faces more than made up for any discomfort he may have felt.

It was only moments as trays began to line the long table, steam and the smell of stewed meats wafted through the air and Trunks quickly forgot that he was in an alien world. As the elves began to fill their plates and eat happily, talking quietly to each other; Trunks loaded his own plate and ate at a quick pace but with neatness and precision that would have made Vegeta proud.

"You, boy. They tell me you are from another place as well." An elf at Trunks left was looking at him, his eyes cool and calculating. Pale hair, nearly white, was pulled tightly from his face in thin braids. Trunks could feel a type of honor and dominance in the elf's gaze, and though he was loathe answering him, he would not be rude.

Trunks set his fork down neatly beside his plate and took a sip from his goblet, noticing the look of impatience that flickered over the elf's face. "Yes, I am." Trunks set the glass back on the table and gazed steadily at the man.

Eyes the color of faded denim locked with bright azure, and the two remained glaring for nearly five minutes. Trunks was ready to fume, feeling his father's temper rise inside of him, but the elf suddenly grinned broadly and laughed so heartily that Trunks blinked in surprise.

Lord Elrond chuckled lightly under his breath and smiled warmly at Trunks. "It seems, _Uruite Ernil_, that you have won over Lord Glorfindel."

Trunks' brow furrowed at the Elvin words and he turned to his mother for answers but she only smiled sweetly and shrugged. The twins across from him were looking at their father just as confused.

"What do you mean, Ada?" Elladan enquired, taking side-long glances at Trunks.

Elrond smiled, "Lady Bulma has spoken to me of the boy's father. Vegeta is the Prince of his race." The twins eyes widened and they looked at Trunks with a new sense of awe. "Beyond that, both Glorfindel and I caught his spectacular power show earlier this evening from my study window." With that, the twins' glowed bright red and Glorfindel gave them both a wink.

Trunks, still confused looked to Arwen, "What did he say?"

Arwen smiled gently and Trunks felt calmer just having seen it. "It means 'Fiery Prince'."

"Oh." Trunks nodded, pushing a pit of fruit around his plate with a spoon.

Glorfindel clapped Trunks on the shoulder and plucked the cherry from the saiyajin's plate. "I would normally tell you to be wary of those two, but it seems to me that you have them well in check."

Instead of blushing like he thought he would, Trunks grinned wide and took a berry from his plate and popped it into his mouth. Bulma looked between them curiously, not understanding, and looked to Arwen for help.

The Lady smiled, "Later." Bulma sighed and nodded, picking at her own food and watching her son oddly as he began to laugh loudly with the blonde elf as the twins began to fidget.

---

The sun was just settling along the plateaus when the group of riders finally rode up to the outskirts of Edoras. A flag, with the symbol of the house stitched across a black field, fluttered past and Vegeta watched it catch along the grasses before looking up into the towers. A compact structure sat at the highest peak, a scattering of village huts and merchant shops to the left.

Gandalf breathed heavily through his nose and tugged at the tip of his beard. He motioned them all forward, and silently they all found themselves on a slab before heavily engraved doors. "I would prefer if you three remained here." He looked over at Goku and Vegeta, only glancing at Piccolo.

Goku's eyes were hard, the sheen of total comprehension and the smell of battle etched into his face. Vegeta opened his mouth to complain but Goku shook his head slowly and sat on the lip of the small wall that bordered the plateau edge. Grunting and a little dejected, Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at all of them.

Piccolo snorted, facing north and thinking hard on the steady thrum of ki in Rivendell. Things were getting confusing, and the more complicated this plot became the harder it would be for them to get out of it alive. Closing his eyes a moment, Piccolo ignored the bead of sweat that rolled down his jaw and shivered at the foreign energy that flowed across his back.

The doors behind burst open, a man stumbled, then skid down several stone stairs and across the granite flooring. Vegeta quirked an eyebrow and watched as a man with graying hair and a sword clutched in one hand stalked behind him. Gandalf appeared in the doorway, looking pleased.

"Please, sire! I only ever tried to serve you! Please!" The man squirmed, rising to his knees and holding his hands before him in defense of any blows.

"Cease your blathering, Wormtongue! Too long have you corrupted these halls!" The sword raised high, the setting beams of the sun glinted off the edge and Vegeta watched in mild fascination, waiting for an arch of arterial blood and moan of pain, maybe a gurgle as the mans lungs filled and that huffing labored breath that the victor would have when it was all over. The back of his mind squeezed and began to itch in temptation, but the stroke never fell.

Aragorn stepped to the man's side, blocking his blows. "Théoden King," Aragorn looked into the man's angry face, "there have been enough lives lost already."

Vegeta frowned, that same piece of his mind screaming about the atrocity of leaving the man alive. A warm hand settled onto his shoulder and Vegeta looked up in surprise and annoyance. Goku stood behind him, his face uncharacteristically blank as he gazed down at the Ouji. Vegeta sighed and leaned imperceptibly into his grip.

Théoden deflated, dropping the sword to his side and watched as Wormtongue mounted the nearest horse and bolted from the fortress walls. Gandalf stepped behind them, his face soft and grandfatherly. "We have much to discuss, Théoden King."

Théoden nodded his head, suddenly looking weary. "I assumed we would." He turned slowly, climbing the few stone stairs back to the granite slab. Aragorn stayed a step behind, but his arm was crooked at Théoden's back as if waiting for the man to collapse. Legolas and Gimli watched quietly, following the ranger.

After the slow group moved into the entry, Gandalf turned and looked up at Piccolo. "Master Namek, as much as I would have liked to speak to you, it seems I haven't much time." For the first time, Gandalf smiled lightly at him, and Piccolo frowned.

Goku gave Piccolo a quick look and a small salute when the Namek nodded lightly at him. Grabbing Vegeta by the hand, Goku began up the stairs, hauling the indignant Ouji behind him.

Gandalf watched the ordeal with a chuckle and sat down on the stone lip of wall, carefully watching Piccolo as the Namek settled into the corner, leaning along the stone rise. "I know you have been highly annoyed by my actions, and I apologize." Piccolo's eyes widened and Gandalf laughed again. "I am not so maddening all the time, but I felt I needed to be sure."

"Sure of what?" Piccolo's voice was low and gruff. He wasn't in the mood for more riddles.

"I have been observing the three of you. Goku seems naive from time to time, but he is a strong tactician and seems to be the buffer of much anger from both you and Vegeta." Gandalf paused, the corner of his mouth quirking when Piccolo nodded. "I feel there is much we can learn from him in the future. I will see to it, Aragorn and he have a frank discussion soon.

"Vegeta is strong, in both body and temper, though I sense that his mind is often in great turmoil with what his heart tells him. His pride is his greatest strength as well as his greatest weakness. Ghosts from his past plague him often, just as yours plague you…"

Piccolo snorted. "That's an understatement."

Gandalf's smile was still soft and comforting. "From you, I am often confused. It is as though there are parts of you that come to the surface that are not entirely you." Piccolo nodded again, eyes lowered to the stones at his feet. "There is a warrior's spirit, wisdom beyond your years and something else I cannot touch upon."

When Piccolo glanced up, Gandalf was looking at him with slight confusion on his weathered face. Taking a light breath Piccolo shifted his stance, "Namek's have the ability to fuse with others of their kind. I have with two others."

Gandalf stroked his beard, eyes cloudy with thought. "Yes, I see…" Piccolo crossed his arms over his chest, watching as the sun set lower. "The guardian, he gave it to you…"

Blinking, Gandalf shook his head and looked back up at Piccolo. "It does not matter. What I am most interested in, is that you are a seer." Piccolo's face was placid. "Do you understand what I say? There are times when you can feel what is coming, knowing to take one path will lead to destruction, while another will be full of hardship but all will be well at the end."

Piccolo cocked his head to the side, thinking of the countless battles he had fought, the strategies he had used, the number of times he had meditated only to have images fade in and out. When he looked harder at Gandalf, the wizard's face was serious and open.

"You understand what I mean. I would like to propose that here, with the effects of this world, your power is stronger." Gandalf held up a gnarled hand, "Then again, it may not. But beyond your need to rest I would like you to try to see what you may. There are other ways to look into the near future with orbs, but they have a heavy price. With Goku's tactical skill, Vegeta's hardened spirit and your ability to aid us to less deadly paths, I'm hoping we might get through this with fewer casualties."

Piccolo entered Edoras for the first time, head down and deep in thought. Many of the guardsman grew tense as he walked by, but trekking before him was Gandalf and the wizard gave them each a withering look as they gripped their weapons.

"So good of you to join us, Gandalf, seeing as how you claim there are important matters to discuss." Théoden sat upon his thrown, a goblet in one hand, the hilt of his sword still clutched in the other.

Gandalf dipped his head in respect, glancing over his shoulder at Piccolo who now stood in the entry, frowning at his feet. "I regret keeping you waiting, Théoden King, but overdue business was also pressing."

Théoden grunted, but spoke not a word, content on looking dejectedly down on the wizard. He glanced up at the alien in the doorway but did not comment, no doubt if the creature was important he would be brought up soon enough.

Piccolo cleared his throat, finally looking up at the surrounding room. His eyes lighted on a woman in the corner, fair skin looking transparent in the torch lighting. She was hovering near Aragorn and when Piccolo caught her gaze she flinched and stepped back. Suppressing a sigh, Piccolo noticed that both Vegeta and Goku were not among the present. Gimli sat a small table chewing gratefully on roasted meat and Legolas was perched on the opposite end of the table where Aragorn sat.

"Your friends have gone to their chambers." Legolas tilted his head, and Piccolo nodded although a little unnerved that the elf had read his mind.

Aragorn nudged the woman lightly with his elbow and nodded to a hallway. She jumped lightly and blushed. "If you'll follow me." Piccolo looked over the group again, the base of his skull beginning to throb dully and he grunted in reply.

The lady's shoes clicked lightly on the cobble floor as she walked quickly down the narrow corridor. Piccolo could smell the fear rolling over the stale air and curled his lip in disgust. The woman turned her head, looking over her shoulder and gave him a weak smile. "I am Lady Éowyn, it is –ah—a pleasure to have such warriors in our house."

She paused before a door and watched him expectantly but when he failed to answer her after a moment, her face flushed and she pushed open the door. "These will be your quarters. I hope you find them to your liking." Quickly excusing herself, Éowyn retreated down the hall, disappearing around a corner.

The room was small and rough, not that Piccolo minded. After a quick tour of the small flat, he noticed with some regret that the place had no windows. He felt the ki of Vegeta and Goku across the hall, most likely in the room directly from his, and stepped from the small space and pushed the door open without bothering to knock.

The door opened soundlessly and Piccolo paused, a fat bead of sweat rolling down his temple. Vegeta stood clad only in leggings and boots, his fist curled into the front of Goku's tunic. The larger saiyajin was bent slightly, one of his larger hands nested in the prince's upsweep of hair. They both looked flushed, standing so close they looked like they were trying to push their way through one another, eyes closed and lips pressed hard against the other.

Slowly reaching out, Piccolo grasped the handle of the door and pulled it closed. He stood there stone still for a full minute face faulted. Finally he blinked several times and he smirked. He had seen more than he wanted, but also learned what he had intended on asking; there were no windows in the saiyajin's quarters either.

Walking back the way he had come, Piccolo paid closer attention to the air around him and realized that he was walking up a small incline. The guest quarters were built into the plateau, which would certainly explain the lack of ventilation and the stale air.

Voices murmured the closer he got and he could hear the tension in the words passed. Rounding the corner, he paused and watched as his traveling companions glared around them in exasperation. Gandalf's eyes fell on him with a sense of relief, as though he were the blade he needed to cut the strings of stress.

"Master Namek, is there something we could help you with?" Gandalf's voice was weary.

"I didn't come to interrupt. I just wanted to get on the roof." Piccolo shifted feet, aware that every eye in the room was locked on him.

Théoden raised an eyebrow. "What is this creature that wants atop my fortress?"

Aragorn took the pipe from his teeth. "He is Piccolo Diahmoa, a warrior." He pushed a lock of hair from his eye and rubbed at his temple. "What he wants with your roof, I know not."

"Why do you want up so high?" Gimli paused from his plate and cast a queer eye. "It is only natural to keep your feet on solid ground."

Legolas' tinkling laugh seemed to relax many of the shoulders around the room and he winked at Gimli. "That is only because you live deep in the earth, Master Gimli. If a dwarf had told me otherwise I would question his sanity."

"Look, I just want somewhere quiet and in the open where it will be hard to be bothered." Piccolo frowned at them, not feeling angry but frustrated.

Théoden waved his hand at the entry. "There is one way but I am wary to show a creature that I do not know. It leads through many places of my house I would not show a wanderer."

Breathing heavily through his nose, Piccolo scowled at the man. "Then I will scale the outer wall," he grit his teeth and spat, "with your permission."

Théoden smiled, "If you can climb it, by all means."

Spinning on his heel, Piccolo stalked from the room and pushed the heavy doors open. He gazed up the granite wall and felt like slapping himself in the forehead. Instead, he set his jaw and gripped the nearest handhold, searched quickly for the next and hefted his way up the side of the building.


	13. Eventful Nights

---

The sun was set and barely any rays were peaking across the crests of the mountains when Piccolo heard Gandalf leave the doors below him. He didn't bother to listen as the wizard spoke with another and instead looked up into the deepening twilight sky. A spatter of stars was starting to show and the temperature was dropping steadily.

He was just falling back into the oblivion of his mind when a tumble of stone and soft patter of feet came from behind him. He felt a body settle down next to him and rumbled low in his chest in acknowledgment.

"I did not mean to disturb you." Legolas' voice was quiet.

"It's alright." Piccolo replied. He debated on giving up on meditating for a time and with a sigh gave in and opened his eyes.

It was startlingly darker than a moment before and it took a second for Piccolo's eyes to adjust until he could see the rooftop that spread out around them. When he looked over, Legolas lay back gazing up into the canopy of night with his hands pillowing his head. He studied the elf's profile for a while and never noticed when Legolas turned his head and looked up at him.

"What are you thinking?" A small smile tugged at the corner of Legolas' lips. Piccolo blinked and shrugged before looking up at the sky. Legolas sat up in a smooth motion and looked up with him for a time. "If I sit here quietly, would you mind if I stay for a while?"

Piccolo looked over at him, "Free rooftop." Confusion clouded Legolas' eyes and Piccolo grinned. "Sure you can stay."

Legolas smiled. "Thank you."

It was quiet again, and Piccolo could hear Gandalf's request nudge his mind. With little resolve, he set his chin to his chest and breathed deeply. _Meditation is a beautiful thing_. In little than five minutes, Piccolo's mind was free of restraint and he started one of the first thorough meditations he had in weeks.

Legolas continued to look around at the scenery. He never thought he would see a better view than he normally would with his keen vision, but from this height it was magnificent. He knew he told the Namek he wouldn't bother him but he couldn't help but share the beauty with someone. When he looked over, however, Piccolo's face was entirely peaceful.

Tugging at a braid, Legolas unwound it in his nimble fingers and watched the Namek breath quietly. Now seemed a good a time as any to ponder over what it was that fascinated him, it had to be something relatively important for him to scale a stone wall and sit in the cold while Piccolo paid him no attention. He combed through the section of hair that had been recently unbraided, the wavy strands blowing across his face.

Biting at his lower lip, Legolas studied the angles of Piccolo's face up close for a time and moved on to the peach planes of solid muscles along his arms. That was an intriguing feature if he ever saw one. He flexed his fingers and reached out, he could feel the heat under his palm before he even touched the emerald skin and he paused pulling back and rested his hand in his lap.

It wasn't long before a fidget started, Legolas held his breath and let it out slowly. Fingers itching, Legolas looked down at his hands and then back up at Piccolo. He tried not to squint his eyes as he reached forward, as if he was waiting for some type of explosion as his fingertips barely graced across one high cheekbone and he pulled back in shock. Piccolo didn't stir. Legolas felt a peal of laughter bubble up in his throat in relief and held it back. With a little mustering of courage, he reached forward again and let his finger pads play along a cheekbone and then slowly trace down the edge of Piccolo's jaw. He watched his fingers sketch along and felt a bit of awe at the flesh beneath his calluses. The jade was soft and yielding but as thick as leather. He followed a chord in Piccolo's broad neck and just touched the dip of his collar bone when he dared glance up to the alien's face and stopped his movement with a jerk.

Ebony eyes were staring down at him in surprise. Legolas felt his cheeks prickle with heat and removed his hand abruptly. "I—uh…forgive me."

Piccolo blinked at him and opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

"I will leave you now." Legolas stood, the blush burning as he walked to the edge of the building.

"It's alright…" Piccolo watched him from his spot on the roof. Legolas turned his head and looked at him over his shoulder. He nodded perched on the lip of the building, turning to begin his descent.

"Good night, Master Namek." Legolas called softly over to him.

Piccolo grunted. "'Night." And the elf was gone.

Piccolo settled, feeling phantom fingers move, and when he finally meditated again the visions came slowly. Unfortunately when morning would finally come they wouldn't be images he was going to share with the others. The passing frames of pale blond hair, strong thin fingers and sparkling eyes were his to sort alone.

---

Goku lay staring up into the dark ceiling. He could feel the heat from Vegeta at his side and sense the older saiyajin twitch now and then as he forced himself not to curl up into Goku. Far in the distance he could feel the cold flash of ki that signaled Freeza. There was a twisting of emotion that creased his brow as he thought about the Icejin.

_Kami, how did he get here?_ Goku tried to think as best he could of any way that the small alien could have managed it. How did he manage to get out of hell? But most importantly, why this world, why this time?

Vegeta groaned into the pillow and shivered. Goku looked down at the prince and saw his face twitch in dreams. There was a connection in his mind like a stiff wind that made his thoughts clear. They were the reason. Somehow Freeza knew they were here, and now they were going to face him as they were, without ki and surely they could not win. How could they beat him?

Careful not to wake Vegeta, Goku slipped from the bed and pulled his boots on, checked to make sure he hadn't disturbed the Ouji and pulled his tunic over his head. He paused at the door when Vegeta softly called out in his sleep and he frowned. Vegeta had never spoken in his sleep before. He perched over Vegeta and watched as his features twisted in anger and anguish. Goku scowled in the direction of that evil ki and ran a hand through Vegeta's hair.

The Ouji stiffened but still slept on. Goku bent over the smaller saiyajin and lightly kissed his temple. "Rest easy, Vegeta. Freeza can't get you here. I won't let him." A small sound like a sigh came muffled through a pillow and Goku touched his hair again before leaving, pausing to look back and make sure the Ouji would be fine.

The small fortress was quiet as Goku walked along the corridor. He jumped in surprise as he rounded a corner and nearly ran into Legolas. The elf, surprised just as badly had unconsciously pulled a dagger from his waist. They laughed nervously for a second and Legolas excused himself. Goku watched as Legolas walked on, he looked preoccupied with his own thoughts so he left the elf be.

The throne room loomed into view, deeply shadowed with only two torches lit near the entrance and one at the beginning of the hall. Goku moved into the shadow, maneuvering to a long table and sat down heavily into an oak chair. A soft sound came from the far end of the table and Goku tensed. A bulk shifted and quiet steps brought Aragorn into the dim flickering light of the torches. Goku sighed and relaxed, settling his forehead on the grainy tabletop.

"You should be resting." Aragon's voice was soft in the dark of the room.

Goku shrugged his shoulders, still not picking up his head and mumbled into the wood. "Too busy thinking."

With his face still against the oak he failed to see the amused look that flickered over the ranger's face. "Is it about Vegeta?"

This brought Goku's head up and he looked at Aragorn with a tense look of contemplation. "Not really. But he is part of it."

Aragorn pulled a pipe from his vest along with a small pouch of tobacco. "Then what has you up in the middle of the night?" He packed the bowl of his pipe with a pinch and lit it with a sliver of wood caught fire from a torch.

Running a hand down his face, Goku slumped into the chair. "Freeza. He was unbelievably strong when I beat him the first time. And I just barely managed to do that then. And he still came back."

Aragorn's eyes widened a little as he puffed on his pipe. "Then he should be weaker now."

Sighing, Goku shook his head. "No, he always comes back stronger. Trunks had to kill him the second time." Aragorn's mouth fell open. "Of course I wasn't there to try either…"

"How many times has this creature been felled?" Aragorn leaned across the table, pipe clenched in his teeth.

"Twice that I know of. But now he's back and I'm pretty sure he's only here because he wants me and 'Geta." Goku watched a spider crawl up the stones beside him.

It was silent for quite some time, Aragorn watched Goku watching the tabletop. Finally nearly half an hour later Aragorn stood and gripped the saiyajin by the shoulder. "You should rest. It will be easier to think after a good sleep."

Goku nodded and stood. He followed the ranger back down the hall, not really noticing when the man entered into his own chambers and continued until he came to his own room. When he pushed open the door he could see Vegeta curled up into a ball shivering, the blanket had been kicked off and was in a pile on the floor.

Kicking off his boots and pulling off his tunic, Goku paused to scoop the blanket from the floor and settled in next to Vegeta. After a few minutes, the shivering ceased and Goku's mind still wound on and on. Only when Vegeta grumbled in his sleep and pulled him to his side before burying his head in the larger saiyajin's chest did Goku finally close his eyes and fall into slumber.

---

Bulma yawned and rubbed at her sleepy eyes. She had been sitting up for hours trying to tell Elrond everything he wanted to know and explaining out things she wasn't sure of. The Lord elf looked about as tired as she felt. His shoulders were drooping, his head resting in one palm as he tried to read over paperwork with glazed eyes.

Elrond cleared his throat and Bulma suppressed a groan. "Then Freeza has the ability to destroy our world if he wishes. But why?"

"I don't know! Because he's an evil creep who thinks he can have whatever he wants!" Bulma huffed, the lack of sleep was making her far more cranky and irritable than normal. She rubbed at her temples and decided that she didn't care how Elrond would take it and twisted around a moment before flinging one leg up over the arm of the chair and slumping into the corner.

A graceful eyebrow arched but Elrond didn't say anything about it. "I am just curious. If he wanted to destroy our world, why would we not have seen or heard of his destruction already? Why is he sitting in wait?"

Bulma sighed, "I don't know. He always seemed to like to make you wait, give you time to sweat and worry, you know?"

"Mmm." Elrond shuffled through further papers before pausing to remove the headdress from his hair. He ran his fingers through the length and massaged his scalp. "No doubt Galadriel will know already. I am not sure how to help." He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes.

A soft knock came to the study door and Elrond looked at it queerly, it was far too late for the others to be up and about. "Come."

The door opened slowly revealing a sleep rumpled Trunks. Bulma sat properly in her chair and looked worriedly up at him.

"What's the matter Mirai?" She stifled a yawn.

Rubbing at one eye, Trunks plopped uninvited onto an ottoman and looked between Bulma and Elrond. "You need to go to bed."

Elrond snorted and Bulma shot the elf an irritated look. "You got up just to tell me to go to bed?"

Trunks nodded slowly. "Well, yea. I'm already jumpy, and every time you get worked up your ki spikes and it wakes me up." He grinned at his mother.

"Oh." Bulma yawned. "Go to bed then, I'm going soon." Mirai quirked an eyebrow and Bulma swatted at him. "Go! Now! You have a lot to do tomorrow."

Mirai stood and opened the door before pausing and leaning into the door jam looking back in on his mother and Lord Elrond. He gazed quietly at the elf for a minute before smiling and shaking his head and leaving.

Elrond blinked at the closed door and then looked over at Bulma. Her head was resting on the chair back, she was sleeping. With a soft smile, Elrond stood and walked around the great desk. He lightly shook Bulma until her blue eyes blinked slowly.

"Come along Lady Bulma, it is past time to retire." Elrond helped her up and held the door for her, watching her mumble to herself and walk sluggishly down the hall. After she had turned a corner out of sight he closed the study door and sat behind his desk again. He plucked the stack of papers from the surface and shuffled through them, all of them notes taken on this new event. He hoped there would be some kind of miracle that would aid them. He blew out the lantern on his desk and stood in the dark for a moment praying to the Valar that something would happen.

---

The sun rose, and as the first beams bit into the fading night sky, the population of Edoras was already on the move. Aragorn stood surveying the groups of people, hearing the echoing calls from servants and guards, "Take only what you can carry and is most important. There is no time to pack your houses. Hurry up there!"

He bit his pipe, frustrated that they were fleeing. The door behind him creaked open and a swirl of skirts beside him found lady Éowyn at his side. She sighed softly as she watched the bustling town-folk in the dim light. "I have a bad feeling in my heart about all of this."

Aragorn turned and looked down at her, "As do I. All we can do now is make the best of what we're given. Even if that is guarding hundreds across open fields." _And into certain death._ Making sure the last was spoken only to himself.

A tinkle of falling pebbles had them both turning and a moment later they could see a bulk of jade and violet at the edge of the building. Aragorn smirked and crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned into the outer wall. "Getting down is a far greater task than going up." He called up to Piccolo. He couldn't see the Namek's face from the distance but could have sworn he heard a grumble of annoyance.

The door before them opened again, this time revealing two sleep rumpled sayajins following Gimli and Legolas. Gimli was talking quite loudly about dwarf burrows and how nicely the underground construction of Edoras was, but how much better it would be had a dwarf built it. Vegeta kept scowling down at the smaller creature but was holding his tongue by some unnatural feat of resistance.

Goku stretched and yawned, finger-combing his wild hair several times as he sat heavily on the lip of wall beside Aragorn. The ranger nodded to him in greeting. "Did you sleep well?" Vegeta gave them both a weary gaze before settling far from everyone, tilting his head so he could still hear.

Shrugging, Goku stretched again and popped several times along his spine. "I guess, but I didn't think up any answers."

Aragorn nudged him with his elbow and favored him with a reassuring smile. "Once we start moving it may come to you." Goku nodded, looking hopeful before he peered up at the edge of the building and grinned stupidly.

"Hey Piccolo, are you coming down?"

There was a mumble that they couldn't quite hear, though Legolas moved around to them and gazed up laughing to himself. Aragorn gave him a questioning eye and the elf shrugged, "He is using some rather…uncultured language." He beamed at those around him as the meaning sunk in.

Vegeta snorted and smirked. "Don't fall Namek, you'll squish the dwarf." Gimli gaped and shuffled quickly away from the doors.

Finally after another full minute of stares, Piccolo called down to them. "Alright, but I don't want to hear one word. Got that, Vegeta?" The small saiyajin snorted and shrugged noncommittally. With a soft sigh, they watched as Piccolo gripped the edge of the building and slowly lowered himself. When he was finally suspended and dangling from his right arm he curled his legs behind him and pushed himself away from the stone. Éowyn let out a startled gasp as he plummeted from forty feet and gripped Aragorn's shoulder. The ranger was tensed under her grasp, his mind whirring with thoughts of how much injury the alien was going to get.

There was a soft pat of feet on the granite and everyone save the saiyajins stared with their mouths hung open. Piccolo landed gently, one knee bent to the earth and hunched over. He stood up brushed invisible dust from his tunic.

Aragorn was the first to recover. "Well, now that we are all here I think it is time we got moving if we want to make Helm's Deep by nightfall." There was a collective affirmation of nods and grunts and the procession moved from the stairs and mounted. Slowly and painfully the town of Edoras emptied. A stiff breeze blew from the east and on it was the stench of smoke and decay.


	14. On the Road

In the Orthanc of Isengard, Saruman scowled as he glared into the seer's globe. Freeza stood on the balcony off of the wizard's room with Zarbon at his side. The effeminate face was turned down at the gathering troops below.

"Pathetic." Freeza spat. His tail pounded the granite beneath his feet, jostling the entire terrace and knocking blocks free. Zarbon frowned down with his lord, curling his nose in distaste.

"I agree. You think they would at least bathe." Zarbon twitched his ponytail off of his shoulder and grimaced as he watched the filthy orcs pushing against each other.

Freeza shot his right hand a disbelieving look and snorted. "I was talking about their skill. The only thing they're good for is cannon fodder." Zarbon shrugged and stepped back from the balcony.

A heavy door thumped open from behind and Saruman appeared behind them in the entry. Zarbon dipped his head in acknowledgement. "We should be expecting company soon." The wizard's face soured further as he peered at the back of Freeza's head. His unexpected guests had done nothing but belittle every move he had made and all the tactics he had conjured.

Freeza didn't bother to turn to face the man and instead pointed down at the throng of beasts below. "How intuitive, there he is now on a horse." Freeza turned on his heel and grinned before an evil cackle fell from his lips. "A horse."

Saruman frowned, "We are not all so fortunate to be able to fly."

Another indignant snort was his answer and Freeza stalked beyond him, pushing Saruman from his way as he went. Zarbon trailed along after, not bothering to see if the wizard was alright.

They were all seated in a darkened room when Grima Wormtongue finally burst through the doors and collapsed to his knees already babbling apologies and cursing all the life on Middle Earth. When the greasy man finally looked up he stopped short with a small strangled noise in his throat.

Saruman stood before him, a look of such rage on his face that the man was sure the wizard was going to flay him for meat to give to the troops. The first hit came expected but he was still entirely blindsided. Wormtongue flew backward several feet, landing heavily on his tailbone and cracking his elbow against the door jam. "Please, milord!"

The staff swung, only an arching white blur before it connected soundly to the side of his face. He felt a two tooth shatter and several others grind as he bit down. "Fool!" All the pent up anger and frustration of days passed and dealing with two arrogant creatures that were far too strong to discipline as they drove him crazy, all off it was poured into that one word. Candles around the room went out as a harsh frigid wind blew through. The ceiling shaking and cracks crept up the walls.

Saruman stood, gasping for air as his body trembled in rage. Grima got to his knees, bent over double and pressed his forehead to the cold marble, mumbling words of atonement as blood poured from his mouth in watery strands.

There was a deep sigh from above and a mirthless chuckle from somewhere in the depths of the room and Wormtongue looked up cautiously. Saruman pinched the bridge of his nose and turned in a flourish, striding deeper into the room and raised is hand. The candles all flickered and caught, the room brightened marginally but enough so that the bleeding mass on the floor could see a cold white beast curled on a small sofa gazing at him with hard eyes.

Grima scurried backward as a light green skinned man came from the shadows toward him. Blood smeared across the floor as he backpedaled through it. "What is with all you people? Haven't you created soap yet on this disgusting ball of muck?" Zarbon scowled and stepped away from the man sprawled along the tile.

Saruman gave the alien a weary look before looking down his nose at his servant still lying on the floor. "You had best have something useful to tell me."

Wormtongue ignored the others, his only allegiance to Lord Saruman and their Lord Sauron. "Of course, my lord, whatever you would ask of me." He collected himself from the stones and cringed as the wizard held out a hand to him, a blink later he realized Saruman held out to him a scrap of cloth and he took it with shaking hands and began to clean his face. He tried not to wince as he dabbed at his swelling lip.

"They will move the people to Helm's Deep. It will be slow and tedious. They will be traveling with women and children, and the old." Wormtongue dared to glance up at his Lord and was relieved to see that the wizard was quirking a small smile.

"Then we shall have to bring the war to them." A malicious grin spread across the man's weathered face and Grima felt better just seeing it.

"But the fortress is impenetrable. It would take hundreds, thousands for such a feat."

There was a suppressed chuckle and Saruman stepped forward a hand held at Wormtongue's elbow drew him forward beside him. There was a roar below them and Grima gripped the guardrail in shock. Below him were hundreds of thousands of orc and Urak-hai beasts in armor.

"But how…" Grima's mouth fell open, a dribble of crimson tinted saliva trailing his chin.

There was a snort of laughter behind him and Grima turned, nearly stumbling back and would have fallen off of the balcony had there not been a railing. Saruman turned as well, scowling down at the little man before them.

"Those freaks down there aren't going to do you any good." Freeza peered beyond them at the hordes of orc.

Grima gaped as Saruman only bit the inside of his cheek. "I ensure you, _Lord_ Freeza, that they are quite capable of destruction."

There was another scoff and Freeza turned his frosty gaze from the troops to Saruman. "And here I thought you wanted to win a war." Freeza turned on his heel and walked calmly into the far room again, his tail swaying behind him. Saruman opened his mouth, ready to refute the creature's remarks when Freeza paused and looked over his shoulder. "When you're ready to talk real business, you know where we'll be."

The door thumped shut behind the Icejin and Grima barely had time to duck as Saruman swung his staff around and pointed it where the beast had been standing. With a frustrated growl, the wizard spoke an incantation and blasted the door in his way to splinters before stalking off and down into his lower labs.

---

Trunks was gazing off into the distance, up long before the sun rose, unable to sleep as a creeping sense of dread had been washing his spine in ice for nearly an hour now. He had gone down and eaten in the kitchen with the staff there. The morning meal was just getting started but they were able to find him much of last night's extras that Trunks' obligingly took to a nearby empty counter. They had been more than happy to serve him and let him sit in silence as he brooded and munched.

Now back in his quarters, he leaned into the balcony and bore holes into the lightening sky. He curled his nose at the twists of lemon and pink tinting the horizon, far too cheerful for the foreboding that was latched onto his mind.

He felt he should leave soon, the sooner the better, but he didn't want to leave without seeing his mother first. With his destination in mind, the demi saiyajin paused to pick up his sword and slung it across his shoulders and sighed at the rumpled and sleep creased clothes he wore. He tugged at the hem of his black muscle shirt, trying to stretch out the wrinkles and actually had a bit of luck. He snorted at his reflection, if only getting the worry lines out of his face could be that easy.

The halls were still empty, and the clipping of his feet on the tile echoed dully along the walls. He hadn't passed a single person as he knocked lightly on his mother's door. There was an incoherent mumble that he recognized from years of his childhood and he couldn't repress the grin on his face. He pushed the door open and peeked in, seeing his mother trying to sit up among the pillows, rubbing the sleep from her face with an open palm.

"Trunks?" She yawned and favored him with a sleepy smile.

Mirai stepped in and shut the door behind him. He paced to the bed and sat on the edge. "Morning. I didn't want to wake you, but I wanted to say goodbye before I just took off." Bulma smiled and patted his cheek.

"Thank you, Mirai. I'm glad you did." She stretched and started to get up but Trunks held up a hand.

"You were up too late. Go back to sleep. The sun's just barely come up." He stood and smiled down at her as she pressed back in the blankets with a contented sigh. Bulma was already asleep again when Mirai pressed a kiss to her forehead and left.

He had made it as far as the main entrance before Lord Elrond stopped him, trailed by his two sons. In one hand was clutched something long and thin, wrapped tightly in black leather; the other held a satchel. Lord Elrond held them both out to him, and Trunks took them both gingerly.

"The case is for you, it has supplies and food you may need. This is for Estel, you will know who he is when the time comes for it." Elrond paused a moment and simply stared at the lilac haired young man before him. "I do not know why you and your friends have managed to come to this place at such a chaotic time, but I feel that we need you all now more than ever."

Mirai dipped his head, it was true enough, but the only reason they were needed really was because they wound up dragging Freeza with them. Would it have been so different if the Icejin had not come? What if the Bulma of his time, his own mother, had not died so soon? Would he even be here to help them?

When Trunks finally broke free of the morbid thoughts, he blinked and was caught by two sets of steely stares. The twins both were boring holes into him as he stood. "We are going with you." Before Mirai could drop his mouth open to protest, Elrohir held up a hand. "There are elves from the other regions going as well, the time of war is falling onto our shoulders now."

The stern features of his warrior face fell into place and Trunks stood, scowling with inherited arrogance, at nothing in particular. "I can't carry you both."

A flicker of confusion went across the faces of the three elves before him. Finally, Elladan spoke. "You would not need to, there are horses here that would do the same."

"That's not…I…never mind." Trunks' scowl hardened. He had intended to fly off as fast as he could toward his father's ki signature, but it didn't seem like that was going to happen.

Lord Elrond seemed to sense the boy's distress and set a hand on his shoulder. "I assure you that you will reach your friends in time. Take heart." After a moment of strained silence, Trunks let out a troubled sigh and nodded, pushing hair from his face.

"Alright. I don't have any reason not to trust you." He gave them a weak smile. Elrond stood in the entrance and watched as the three moved down the stairs toward the pathways that would lead them to the stables. Trunks turned and grinned up at him. "Take good care of my mother."

Elrond nodded, a small smile curling his lips. "Of course."

"I know you will." Trunks winked at him and continued, picking up the pace slightly to catch up with the twins who were now far ahead of him.

Lord Elrond was rooted, staring at the back of Mirai's head before clearing his thoughts and walking back into the hall.

---

The plains were hot. Morning had barely begun and already both saiyajins and their green friend were sweating and growing increasingly irritable. Of course Goku had the ingenious idea of removing his tunic so that he could let the rare wind blow across him. The taller saiyajin had either ignored the looks he was continually getting or was completely oblivious. It was most likely the latter. This new predicament of course did not help Vegeta's comfort level at all, in fact seemed to add to his dilemma. The prince had attempted not to stare at his counterpart and began to force his eyes to roam across the wilds, of course when they had settled on Piccolo and the Namek had been grinning at him it was the last straw and he turned violently to keep from leaping on the alien and beating him into the dusty earth. However, after his spin he nearly tripped over someone beside him and barreled headfirst into Goku's side.

Both saiyajins fell to the ground with a grunt, Goku getting filthy as his sweat covered back picked up the dust and dried grasses, and Vegeta blushing, a deep scarlet that he refused to acknowledge, as he climbed off of the younger when an insatiable urge to lick a bead of sweat from the man's neck leapt into his mind. Of course the little groan from Goku—which was most likely from landing on a good sized rock—did nothing to stop his mind from connecting it to several sexual things that would bring out bigger and better sounds than that.

After gaining his footing Vegeta stalked off quickly. Goku rose from the earth, scratching the back of his head in wonderment hoping that Vegeta was okay, he did seem rather grumpy today. A horse paused beside him and Goku glanced up, catching Aragorn's silhouette in the sunlight. "Are you alright?"

"Sure. I've taken a lot worse than a tumble." Goku beamed up at him and Aragorn smiled, moving on ahead. It was apparent that Vegeta was now trying to avoid him, so Goku shrugged and waited for Piccolo's loping gait to bring the alien to him. "Hey, Piccolo!"

The Namek cast Goku a weary look. They walked along, their larger strides had them passing people with ease and silence settled between them. Goku sighed deeply several times, glancing sideways at his traveling companion. Piccolo refrained from rolling his eyes.

"What is it, Goku?"

The saiyajin's eyes widened, "Huh? Oh, it's nothing."

It took a whole of three minutes before Goku sighed deeply again. Piccolo scowled at the back of his spiky head. "What?!"

"It's just…" Goku looked over his shoulder at his friend and Piccolo noticed the deep coloring of the saiyajin's cheeks.

"If it has something to do with sex between you and Vegeta, I'd prefer not to know." Piccolo kept walking even as Goku nearly fell over from shock.

A nervous peal of laughter came as a belated reply and Piccolo was torn between smirking and gagging. He settled for a grunt as Goku quickly shuffled back to his side. Apparently whatever had been on Goku's mind was either forgotten or ignored as he walked in a somber mood.

"I've been thinking…" Piccolo shot Goku a wary glance and took a heavy draught from his water bladder as he listened. "How can we beat Freeza?" The Icejin's name fell from Goku's lips like a curse. A small contemplative rumble sounded from Piccolo's chest and Goku waited patiently for the Namek's input.

"I'm not sure we can." Piccolo watched his feet as he thought, then looked up to see Goku's warrior face had fallen into place. The conversation left a tense and uncomfortable silence stretch, Goku watched Vegeta intensely; Piccolo gazed steadily at the natives of Middle Earth as they plodded on knowing that their death could be coming and totally oblivious to the bigger hell that decided to pop in for kicks.

Neither of the warriors noticed as Legolas caught up to them, walking a little behind, as they were tangled in their own thoughts. Goku turned to his long-time friend. "If for some reason I die here, I'd like you to look after Gohan for me."

Piccolo blinked at him and bowed his head, "He's a man now Goku, but you know I will, even if you never would have asked."

There was a meeting of mind between the two of them and Goku smiled softly at Piccolo for a moment and nodded. "I know. I'm proud of him, even if he still needs to be reassured now and then. He'll need someone that loves him." Goku plodded ahead, catching up with Vegeta.

Piccolo watched as Vegeta tensed and then relaxed as Goku stepped up and walked quietly with him. The taller saiyajin rested his hand on the back of Vegeta's neck; a small smirk flickered across Piccolo's face as he saw Vegeta start to growl until the prince saw the serious countenance of the only other pure blood. When Vegeta side-stepped nearer so that they walked only inches apart, a soft pang hit the Namek in the chest and he had to look away.

The sound of a familiar stride had Piccolo's stomach clench in nervous tension that he forcefully willed away. A moment later, Legolas' blonde head bobbed beside him. They had successfully avoided each other for the better part of the morning—or at least Piccolo had. He didn't know if the elf had searched him out during other times but he was careful to have another in his presence at least so that the uncomfortable topic of the night did not come up. Now however—with Gimli chatting away with the Lady Éowyn, Aragorn speaking quietly with Théoden and both saiyajins lost somewhere in the crowd—he was well and truly stuck.

Legolas was the first to break the uncomfortable silence. "Goku is preparing himself to die?"

Piccolo was torn between laughing in relief at the conversation and being angry at having been eavesdropped. "Yes."

The elf frowned, "So he is admitting defeat already?"

"Hardly." Piccolo wasn't sure why he was so angry, but he refused to believe it had anything to do with the unresolved issues from the night before. "He's being realistic."

Legolas narrowed his eyes at the clipped tone he was receiving. "Forgive me for finding your views faulty. I am sure thinking yourself already beaten will surely make you win." The sarcasm practically dripped at their feet and Piccolo took a deep breath through his nose to calm himself. It was he, after all, that had set the mood for the topic.

"Look, Goku isn't like that…" Piccolo struggled to find the right words but Legolas held up his hand.

"I understand. And I apologize for being irritable. It is only to see a warrior of his strength already succumbing to fate is disheartening." Piccolo nodded. The mood around them lightened considerably after that and the change of subject was welcomed. "Gohan is Goku's son?"

Piccolo couldn't help the smile that touched his lips. "Yes."

Legolas was gladdened at the sight and smiled in return. "He seems a happy memory for you."

"He is." Piccolo considered if he should continue and mentally shrugged. "I taught him to fight when he was a boy." Legolas watched as Piccolo's eyes sheered over with memory. "He drove me crazy, I'm actually surprised I didn't kill him." Legolas gaped at him and Piccolo let out a bark of laughter. Several of the people that had been walking near them were startled and gave them more space.

"Why would you jest with something so serious?"

"Because it's true." The smile slowly slipped from Piccolo's face. "I wasn't very heroic in those days."

The stifling silence returned with memories of Piccolo's shady past. It was quite a long time before he finally broke from it. "Is it always this hot?"

Legolas smirked. "It is not so bad." Piccolo cocked an eye ridge and favored the elf with an elbow that nearly tumbled him several feet into the clearing. Legolas returned to his side, laughing and rubbing at his bruising rib.

"I didn't realize you were so spleeny." Piccolo grinned, fangs glinting in the sunlight as Legolas scowled at him.

"You do not realize your own strength." When Piccolo shrugged, Legolas sighed, still unconsciously pressing at the sore tissue. "I pity the poor creature that takes your wrath."

"Right now, that would be you wouldn't it?" Piccolo graced him with another toothy leer and Legolas growled before leaping on him. Piccolo stumbled in surprise as the elf clung to his back like a monkey and attempted to strangle him. The elf was actually having success, cutting off some of his wind as he tried to grasp a hold of the blonde. Whenever he managed to get a handful of clothing or even a grip of flesh it was gone a second later as Legolas continued to flit about to keep from getting caught.

Piccolo was grinning like a cat and Legolas laughing like a madman when Aragorn finally got their attention by clearing his throat. He sat astride his horse and was trying his best not to let himself smile underneath his scowling mask. Piccolo had hold of Legolas' right leg and left arm, Legolas still had his strong fingers curled into his neck.

"If you two are quite finished we still have some distance to cover." Aragorn frowned at them, the corner of his mouth twitching as he struggled to keep his composure. Piccolo had the grace to feel foolish, never before allowing himself to become so unhinged and act like a child. A panting breath in his ear had him distracted soon enough as Legolas got his giggling under control.

The bass of Legolas' voice rumbled against Piccolo's back as the elf composed himself. "Of course, Estel." There was a moment without movement then a blanket of flaxen hair fell across Piccolo's face as Legolas turned his head to look at him. The silky tenor hummed softly into his ear, "I'm afraid you will have to release me, Master Namek." Piccolo suppressed a shiver and thanked Kami that he didn't blush as he let go of the elf and felt him slide from his shoulders to land softly beside him.

Aragorn rode ahead several feet before turning in his saddle. "I could use you eyes at the front, Legolas." The elf nodded and the ranger soon melded into the crowd.

Piccolo cleared his throat as they began moving again. They could see Aragorn already at the top of the next hill and heard him call down to the elf. Legolas picked up his pace and grinned as he called back over his shoulder, "We will have to settle this later," as he disappeared into the crowd.

Piccolo ignored many of the looks that he was given for the next ten minutes, normally he would have been immune to them but he couldn't help thinking that the humans weren't simply gawking because he was green anymore. There was a snort beside him and Piccolo looked down in surprise to see Vegeta at his side, Goku along as well.

There was a curious look twinkling in Vegeta's eye and Piccolo scowled at him. "Shut up, Vegeta." And stalked off further into the crowd. Goku scratched the back of his head.

"What was that all about?"

Vegeta smirked up at the younger saiyajin, "Nothing, Kakkarot." Goku looked puzzled as he gazed between Vegeta and the violet clad back of the Namek ahead of them, and then back again. He scratched his neck and sighed. His confusion forgotten a moment later as Vegeta walked just a little closer and Goku settled his palm against the curve of his Ouji's neck.


	15. Torturous Minds

Trunks could honestly say that this was one of the more uncomfortable things he had ever done in his life. How anyone could ever ride a horse was far beyond him. When they had first left Rivendell it was not so bad, mounting the horse was a bit of a struggle but it seemed he was favored with having a steed with an even temper. After nearly falling off twice, Mirai was sure he was going to have a tantrum before they even managed to get out of the forest. He swore colorfully to himself about how he should have just flown like he had planned, but the twins were always there to calm him with encouraging words and he felt embarrassed for thinking about leaving them to find their friends alone while he took off flying.

Then, as though someone had flipped a switch it was as though he had been born on horseback, he had balance and grace and he allowed himself to relax a bit before he broke the poor animal's ribs with his thighs. Of course, his glee was short lived. Not a minute after they entered the first large clearing it had been time to increase their pace.

Surely he would have humiliating dreams for months after this—if he made it out alive of course. The horse didn't have so much a mind of its own, as much as a drive of its own. As soon as Elladan and Elrohir began to pick up pace his own horse needed to stay a neck ahead. As the pace increased and the horse moved of its own volition, Trunks could only hold on for dear life and pray to the heavens that he didn't get flung off and trampled. They had covered at least five miles before he finally began to settle into the pace and balance, but the damage had already been done to his pride and backside.

The twins did not once laugh at him however, nor did they give him knowing smiles that covered hidden jokes between them. Still, their praise fell on deaf ears as Mirai mentally kicked himself over and over for agreeing to the farce to begin with. He could have left the creature in the stables and ran along with them, but it was far too late now.

The afternoon sun found them on the plains east of South Downs following the Bruinen. Trunks would not have asked them to stop for a rest, but it seemed the twins understood without his saying a thing and proposed a rest in the shade.

Trunks climbed painfully from the saddle and grunted. The horse nuzzled into his shoulder and Mirai grinned, petting its velvety nose before stretching himself out a bit and flopping ungracefully into the shade of an oak.

After the twins left their own horses to graze, they sat beside him and stretched. Trunks admired the beauty around him, silently praying that nothing would ever devastate the land and ruin so much health and green. Again it made him remember his home and he frowned as he saw the crumbled buildings, the everlasting grey skies and countless dead bodies that were unearthed every day since the androids destruction. He wondered if the survivors would ever see a brilliant blue summer sun and vibrant green grass ever again.

Elladan cast a worried look at his brother at the depression that etched across the young man's face. Elrohir pulled his hair from his shoulders and leaned forward to look directly in their companions face. "Are you well?"

Azure eyes blinked and slowly their focus returned. Mirai smiled weakly at the worried elfin frown. "Yea, just remembering home."

The young elf lord sat back again and nodded. "Do you miss it?" Trunks blinked at him, as though he didn't understand the question. Elrohir seemed to realize this and elaborated. "Your home, do you miss it?"

"Not really." Mirai spoke quietly, but it was the truth. There was no need for a hero there now, he seemed a constant reminder to those alive of the horrors they had lived through. The only other person that tied him there was his mother, and now she too was gone.

Elladan paused from shuffling through his bag to look up at him. "How can that be?"

Mirai shrugged. "There was nothing for me there but death." He really didn't want to elaborate and shifted in his seat hoping the subject would drop. He was not so lucky.

"Death?" The elfin tenor was quiet and Trunks glanced over at Elladan. There was a far away look in his slate eyes that cleared as he blinked. The elf turned his head to him and pierced him with his gaze silently demanding further explanation.

"There has been a lot of death where I am from, years of battles and war. I grew up learning to fight and hide." He swallowed thickly, he hadn't spoken about it with anyone except Goku several years before; it was painful then and was still a tender spot on his soul. "I was trained, raised to be the savior of our whole world since I was old enough to understand. Do you know how _frustrating_ it is to grow up with that kind of pressure?"

The twins shook their heads and both shuffled a little closer as Mirai silently fumed. They listened to the twittering of birds in the boughs above them as Trunks calmed himself slowly. Finally he continued. "Sorry. I didn't mean to get so worked up." He pushed lilac hair from his face and smiled sheepishly at them. They waved their hands at him in silent dismissal. "The only thing that really kept me there was my mom. When she died I had nothing left there, so I'm not even sure I'll go back."

Elladan frowned. "But the Lady Bulma is safe in Rivendell…"

Trunks laughed lightly. "It's kind of complicated." He looked pensive before he shifted and started to draw in the loose soil in front of him. The twins shifted closer so they could peer around him and see what he was doing.

In the dirt were a few rough circles and shaky lines. Mirai looked up, blushing lightly at how close they were and pointed down at the little doodle. "This," he pointed to a circle to the far left, "is where I am from. Where everything is dead or dying; where I was born and where my mother died. Got it?" When he saw layers of bobbing brunette hair at either side he continued. "This circle is the earth where Bulma lives; where Goku, Piccolo and my Father live. This line here represents a dimensional wall. Following so far?"

Elladan had his face scrunched up in slight confusion but he nodded anyway. Trunks grinned at how cute the elf looked. Elrohir was more placid than his brother but his confusion shone through his eyes. "This is a barrier between different realities. Both planets are Earth, but each show the infinite possibilities that could happen. There are probably billions upon billions of different realities, but in this one I was born where my father and many other warriors are already dead." The uncertainty slowly relaxed from them and Trunks nodded his head in approval.

"My mom, from my time, found a way to go from this side of the wall, to this side." He poked his finger onto each circle for emphasis. "And since it is another reality, she's is sort of still technically my mom."

There were identical nods, though they didn't get it entirely, they understood enough to comprehend what Mirai meant. There was a strained silence and Trunks shifted around and cleared his throat. The twins suddenly realizing their proximity backed off with a light flush.

Bags were opened and a small meal was set out, eating past he heat of the day and lounging in comfort. When Elrohir set to packing up what little was out, Trunks groaned. His horse came to him and gave him what seemed an apologetic look.

Elrohir grinned at him as he tied the satchel onto the horse's saddle, "It will get easier with time."

"I hope so." Trunks grimaced as he hauled himself up, his thighs already cramping lightly and protesting. Elladan rode up beside him, looking as though he were born on horseback. "God, you guys make it look easy."

Elladan puffed up in pride and beamed. Elrohir came round to the other side of Mirai's horse and grinned over at his brother. "Elladan has had a lot of practice riding things." A light blush rose on his brother's face and Elrohir laughed.

"No more than you, dear brother. And at least when I am finished both I, and my 'mount' are both well sated." Elladan huffed and rode ahead.

Elrohir sputtered lightly and moved, continuing the risqué conversation with his brother as Trunks followed slowly behind laughing at the bickering twins.

---

The heat of the day was slowly flowing out, the sun already past its zenith, and Goku could feel the difference in his skin. Since the morning's small chats and menial events, nothing had happened and the innocence that was Goku was growing restless. He turned his head to look down at Vegeta, who even with the sweat dampened brow still managed to look exactly the same even after hours of walking, and smiled at the top of his head.

He knew that something vastly important was happening between the two of them, and even though he felt the change subtly over several months, it still felt like it had happened over night. Goku's mind popped up a mental image of ChiChi's smiling face and smiled gently at the picture. There was no guilt or shame as he thought over the feelings that were brewing for Vegeta somewhere in him, ChiChi had already made several things clear to him as she aged and one of those points was that Goku should find someone to love after she passed.

That conversation had certainly been a shock and entirely out of the blue. It had been two years ago at least, the last time ChiChi had been very ill and needed to stay in bed for a week to recover. Goku sat up with her in the nights rubbing slow circles across her back as she coughed harshly or vomited and he still told her she looked beautiful even though she would grimace at him and smack him playfully in the arm every time. It had been one of the quiet nights closer to her feeling better when she told Goku that she wanted him to be happy after she died.

"There is too much love in you, Goku." She had said, and when he looked at her with confused eyes she snuggled into his shoulder and sighed. "I know you don't understand why I'm saying this, I still love you, Goku and I always will but we both know you're going to live so much longer than I will." She paused to cough and sip some water. "Just promise me that you'll think about it okay?" Goku had readily agreed, still not quite understanding what he had agreed to, but the answer made ChiChi smile as she fell asleep in his lap.

Now he finally thought he understood as he studied Vegeta's proud profile. The prince felt the lingering look and looked up at him through his thick lashes. "What is it, Kakkarot?"

Grinning, Goku shrugged. "Just thinking." Vegeta snorted and favored him with an odd look. He stared after Vegeta another few minutes before speaking again. "It's getting kind of boring. I wish something would happen."

There wasn't even time to take another breath when a mix of screams and shouts echoed to them from the front. Vegeta glanced up at him. "You were saying?"

They raced toward the noise, seeing Legolas atop the next hill with a bow stretched between his hands, firing off rounds with deft accuracy. By the time the saiyajins breached the hill they nearly tumbled into each other in shock. Great beasts, the likes they had never seen before, were tearing into the nearby warriors and chewing them into bloody pulp.

The next moment, their reverie broke and they drove headlong into the throng, grabbing hold of warg riders that had been loosed and twisting their boney bodies in their hands. Goku saw Piccolo grip one of the warg beasts by its great jaws as it lunged at him, wrenching the creature sideways and knocking over several warriors from both sides. Goku snapped his fist back and drove it forward into an orc stomach, feeling the skin grow taught and split under his knuckles and kept pushing until he felt the bones of the creatures vertebrae separate and explode from the creatures back.

There was a stiff, guttural yell that he recognized, and he snapped his head to the side to see Piccolo stumble over a dead body, the warg gaining an advantage pressing down on him. Goku shook the dead body from his arm and ran, screaming as he dove and drove his foot into the temple of the beast. The pressure bulged out its eyes, and Piccolo took the opportunity to gain his footing and concentrated what little energy they had to use to punch the creature between its wide set eyes and grunted as the bone shattered below the force.

He nodded quickly to Goku, a similar stiff shake of the head from his friend and they turned in different directions and into the melee. Stench of blood and echoing cries rang out and before long what had been blind panic was nothing.

Vegeta walked up beside Goku, he was covered in blue-black blood and panting lightly. The small area was a wreck. Dead bodies littered the grounds and Goku frowned sadly at the faces he saw in the dirt, some he had actually introduced himself to and they had shared a tale or two. Piccolo soon joined them, and the trio gazed at the horror before them. For the first time they understood what it was exactly that the peoples of Middle Earth stood to face, and they felt a kin to fear for them.

Their silent contemplation was broken by a shuddering intake of breath that held in a sob. Goku gazed up to see who would make such a sorrowful sound and his eyes widened as they came to rest of the Mirkwood Prince standing at the precipice of a cliff. The solid elf made not another sound, and Goku was confused for a moment, thinking that it couldn't have been Legolas until the elf turned and his eye usually glittering and bright were dull and void.

Goku elbowed Piccolo roughly in the ribs and the Namek growled low at him until Goku pointed over to the stricken elf. For some reason, Goku felt Piccolo should know, and when he saw his friend walk slowly toward the flaxen haired prince he knew he had done the right thing.

Vegeta let out a light, 'hnn' before turning and walking down the hill. Théoden was gathering those still alive and speaking quietly before he turned. "Leave the fallen. We move on." Goku felt Legolas stiffen, even from the vast distance between them, and his mind ground on to what could have happened to make the beautiful creature so upset.

Ignoring Vegeta for the time being, Goku began to walk toward Piccolo and Legolas to find out exactly what was happening and frowned deeply when he saw Legolas jerk violently from the comforting hand set on his shoulder. The elf stalked quietly away, already disappearing into the thinning crowd by the time Goku finally got to Piccolo's side.

"What's going on?" Goku blinked at the spot Legolas had been.

There was a deep rumbling sigh and Piccolo stared straight into Goku's eyes. The saiyajin felt like his head was going to cave in under his gaze and wondered idly if Piccolo was trying to use his eye lasers when the Namek spoke. "Aragorn is dead."

Goku jumped in shock and then stilled himself. He scratched the back of his head and then took a deep breath. "Oh." He didn't know what else to say and instead he followed Piccolo down the hillside.

They met up with Vegeta at the bottom where he paused to wait and the three walked on in pensive silence for the remainder of the travel, and even after they entered the gates of Helm's Deep, they only sat in their rooms staring unseeing at the grey walls.

---

Bulma walked stiffly from the work shed and stretched as she went on her way to her chambers. She had opened Mirai's capsule and set it up beside the one she was working on. At first she felt like slapping herself in the forehead at the obvious problems that leapt out at her, but soon set to work at a furious pace.

The main purpose of the whole frenzy was to keep her mind from wandering to what exactly was happening to her friends, and what may happen to her future son. It seemed every time she took a small break to eat or stretch her mind would wander and before long horrible visions were dancing in her head. One time she even thought she heard the tortured screams of Vegeta and ran from the shed at full tilt in a frenzy, tearing through rooms and sobbing uncontrollably until Lord Elrond caught up with her and rocked her lightly as he held her tightly to his chest and repeated 'Every thing is fine. _Il' nat sa tereva_,' softly, alternating between common and _Quenya_ until she calmed.

She had been horribly embarrassed and Elrond told her she should rest, but being the stubborn woman she was, Bulma refused and found herself surrounded by auto parts and grease.

The halls were quiet when she finally stepped from her rooms, freshly bathed and refreshed. She felt no hunger even though she had barely eaten, though she was sure she wouldn't have been able to keep anything down with the twisting in her stomach anyway. Bulma wound her way through the halls and eventually found herself in the vast library.

Picking through the stacks and shelves, she found very little she could actually read, the rest written in the languages of Middle Earth. A thick volume with a heavy suede cover caught her eye and she sat on a plush bench and flipped the text open on her lap. She read a few paragraphs on some type of herb or another before her mind began to play evilly with her again. Before long, she was cursing herself and wiping furiously at the saline drops that dared to fall from her eyes.

A swish of heavy maroon robes blurred in her watery vision and she looked up to see the worried face of Elrond gazing back down at her. He kneeled slowly in front of her, resting his hands lightly atop hers and frowned at the tears that trailed her cheeks. "I cannot have failed already."

The strange words took Bulma by surprise and for a moment all sorrow left her. "What?"

"Your son asked me to watch after you, but still you are in pain." Elrond watched a tear roll silently forgotten down her cheek and wiped it away with the tips of his fingers. There was a light blur and a solid weight fell onto his chest. It took him a moment to realize that Bulma had slid forward and clutched at him, sobbing into his shoulder with all she was worth.

He silently held her and patted her back, waiting for her anguish to drain itself. After a time the sobs slowed and only a small sniff and light hiccup remained. Bulma turned her head and buried her face in the crook of his neck and sighed. Elrond tipped his head a little, allowing her to snuggle deeper. "Better?"

Bulma nodded, and then laughed a little as she drew away, wiping at her eyes and smiling. "You smell nice."

Elrond blinked in surprise, "_Diol lle_." He rose to his feet, shaking his robes and gazed down his thin nose. "Have you eaten, Lady Bulma?" After a shake of her head, Elrond frowned. "Come then, it will not do for you to starve."

A small smile tugged at his lips as Bulma sighed overdramatically and took his offered hand. The book lay forgotten on the couch pillows as they walked from the library toward the dining hall, still linked hand in hand.

---

Night had fallen and Trunks could feel the pulsing ki of his father, Goku and Piccolo in the distance. The feel was stronger and they apparently had reached whatever destination had them on the move all day. Mirai had tried to remain optimistic through the day, but as his father continued in the same direction they were going, they were only gaining on them by very little.

They broke for camp better than two hours ago, long after the sun had set, cradled in the valley at the foot of the mountains. They had crossed a river sometime after their noon rest, though Trunks couldn't remember what exactly the twins had called it, he remembered it had something to do with swans. Where they were now gave Mirai a bit of hope, Elladan assuring him that Isengard was less than half a day's ride away.

Fed and fatigued, Trunks had pulled his jacket tightly around himself and lay on the bedroll Elrohir had lain for him, falling into sleep soon after. The twins had sat watching him for some time, admiring the strong features of the man.

Quietly they left him be and moved to a spot far enough away so that they would not disturb him but still keep watch and rested to talk. Elladan pulled his fingers through his thick hair as he watched the moon move. "You know brother, there seems to be something far deeper to our companion that I first thought."

Elrohir nodded, nibbling on his lower lip in thought. "I know how you feel. Though he is mature in man years, other men of his age are still foolish with youth. But there is a solemn wisdom far too old for his age."

They both turned their heads to watch the subject of their discussion. Trunks had turned onto his side facing away from them and curled into himself. Elladan leaned back onto his brothers knees and sighed as Elrohir unbraided his mane and combed through its length. "If what he says is true, then he has seen far more than half the men of Middle Earth."

There was a silent nod of affirmation and the two relaxed into the boughs of the tree in which they sat. A chill settled into the air and moved over them in a light mist. Elladan settled closer to his brother, gooseflesh rising on his arms as the cold bit into him. A murmur came to them from the ground below and they looked down between the limbs to see Trunks shivering.

Elladan grinned coyly at his twin and leapt silently to the ground. Elrohir dropped beside him and the two contemplated what exactly they should dare do when another shiver at their feet and a quiet whimper made them pause. Thinking it a fluke, Elrohir settled down beside Trunks to give the younger warmth. As he sat, his knee barely brushed the coat on Mirai's back and the boy curled tighter into himself with a deeper whimper and small sob. Shaken at the reaction, Elrohir gazed up at his brother and the other elf settled opposite, lowering his face so that he was a breadth away from Trunks'.

Suddenly the saiyajin's eyes flew open and he yelled loudly, pushing himself away in blind panic. "No! Please! Kami not again! Kill me bu-but don't…" Elrohir pulled the saiyajin to him from behind, scared for the fear that rolled from him in waves. Trunks stiffened in his arms, and before they knew what had happened a blinding flash of light seared into their eyes and Trunks was floating far above them, hair in a torrential upsweep of gold. He had one palm flattened at them and he was growling low in his throat.

"Trunks?!" Elladan called up to him, the fear for the boy had fallen away and now a terror for his own safety clutched at his chest.

With the call of his name, Mirai snapped around, staring down at them before his face crumpled in confusion. Slowly the gold fell from his hair and the light around them died out. The saiyajin lowered carefully to the ground between them, looking at them as though he saw them for the first time. As soon as his feet touched the earth he crumpled to a ball and wept quietly into his knees.

The twins sat cautiously on either side of him, staring at each other in bewilderment. Between the sobs they heard broken pieces of apology. "…sorry. Kami…" Afraid of the reaction, Elrohir slowly reached out his hand and rested it on Trunks' shoulder. There was a tense moment as they both waited for the saiyajin to jerk away but Mirai only curled tighter into himself and shivered.

Taking hope, both twins moved forward, Elladan pulling the trembling young man into his arms while Elrohir pet the hair from Trunks' face. "_Ernil_, you are fine. There is no harm done this night." Elrohir's voice was soft and what he hoped was comforting as he continued to stroke the silken strands from the saiyajin's face.

There was a broken sob, and with what took a great amount of effort, Mirai quelled his emotion and sighed heavily. "I-I'm sorry. I was having this hor-horrible nightmare…" His voice was thick with tears and broken with small hiccups.

Elladan hugged him tighter and lightly rocked them both. "It is alright, _mellon__ nin_."

Trunks shook his head. "I'm sorry. So sorry." There was a small crack in his voice. Elrohir nodded to his brother and Elladan squeezed Mirai tighter, resting his chin on the saiyajin's shoulder.

Elrohir tucked the long strands of lilac behind Trunks' ear. "There is nothing to forgive. Now rest." After a tentative nod, Trunks untangled himself from Elladan's embrace and crawled back to the bedroll, laying on his side and curling up again.

The twins caught each others eyes and without a word agreed with what each was thinking. The moved to either side of the stricken warrior and tucked him between them. Elladan pulled Trunks' back soundly to his chest and held the saiyajin with arms around his waist. Elrohir settled to the front, pulling both Mirai and his brother forward, Trunks' forehead resting on his collarbone. There was a time as they lay, Mirai wound tight and tense. Elrohir again played his fingers through the warrior's hair and Elladan hugged him close and slowly the saiyajin relaxed in the dual embrace. As Trunks' breathing began to even out, Elrohir placed a chaste kiss to Mirai's forehead and rested his pointed chin on the top of the saiyajin's head.

---

_Il' nat sa tereva_ : Every thing is fine.

_Quenya_: old elfish tongue brought forth from Valinor, the base root of elfin languages.

_Diol__ lle:_ Thank you

_Ernil:_ Prince


	16. All for Comfort

!!!   Warning: Some actual YAOI this chapter. So if you aren't into actually reading that bit of information…maybe you should only read the first section of the chapter. !!!

---

The stars did not shine as they normally did to Legolas' keen eye. No, this night the stars looked washed out, faded and blurred. The elf sat on the edge of the fortress rim, settled in the nook for an archer between two large stones. He refused to let Aragorn's death weigh heavy on him, it seemed silly that the ranger would have dove from a cliff instead of dying surrounded by piles of dead with so many arrows and daggers decorating him he looked like a pincushion. He always assumed the man would go down like a blazing fire, just when it looked like it was out it would spark again and leap to destroy even more.

A hand in the pocket of his tunic fingered lightly the charm inside. The evenstar pendant was resting carefully in the depths of cloth. _Waiting for Aragorn's late arrival so it may be returned to him._ Legolas snorted at the thought, surely if Aragorn had fallen from such a height, he would not come for the cut piece of glass.

Legolas sighed deeply, gazing up into the heavens again, trying to see if there was a new star born in the never ending darkness. There were clipped footsteps coming closer and the elf stiffened, waiting for the company he did not want and the consoling he did not need. There was a stutter to the stride and a pause. Closing his eyes, Legolas breathed slowly, trying to get his raging emotions under control.

Just when it felt like the stranger would speak, the steps moved on. Opening first one eye and then the other, a flush of relief washed through him and he leaned back slowly to peak out around the stone to see who had passed by. A sad frown settled onto his face at the retreating back clad in violet.

"Piccolo?"

The back stiffened and the Namek spoke over his shoulder, not turning more than was necessary. "I didn't realize you were up here." Legolas' face screwed up in perplexity, the simple sentence sounded like an apology and an accusation.

There was a dramatic pause, Legolas staring intently at the Namek's back wondering if he should accompany him and drain his weary thoughts. Piccolo stiffened again, turning to the west and inspecting beyond the Gap of Rohan. Legolas stood then, quailing as the Namek's face blanched. He followed the direction of his intense gaze and saw a far off light flash brightly in the night and then just as suddenly fall away to shadow.

"What is it?"

Piccolo hadn't moved, still peering into the night. "Trunks." Legolas nodded, accepting what the Namek had told him without wondering why or how the creature knew. "I'll leave you alone."

Legolas was a bit surprised and strode forward, catching Piccolo's elbow. "No. I have had enough time to wallow." He released the Namek and walked silently as they descended the stairs.

They had wandered aimlessly back to the hall of chambers where the fellowship slept. The tension between them was wholly unwelcome, never before had they been so horribly uncomfortable in the others presence. "It is awfully late for a stroll on the battlements." Legolas spoke quietly, trying to relieve some of that stress from the atmosphere.

Piccolo glanced at him from his peripheral vision. "I wanted some air."

They stood, paused outside their own rooms, ironically across from each other. "I have a balcony. Not large, but you are welcome to sit out on it." Legolas forced himself to meet Piccolo's gaze.

There was a second when Legolas was sure the Namek was going to turn and step into his quarters, but his large jade hand fell from the handle of his door and Piccolo nodded before silently following him into his chambers.

The room was much like his own, simple and modest. The building was, after all, a place of fortitude and strength, not housing for comfort and luxury. True to his word, Legolas pushed open a small rectangular door to the far of the room that opened to a cramped balcony, no more than a slab of concrete with a small stone enclosure. Piccolo felt a little irritated that he didn't have one off of his rooms, but he realized that Legolas' rooms faced out into the plains while his was again buried into the mountain side. It wouldn't exactly do to have a veranda that opened into stone.

Piccolo carefully stepped up onto the sill, testing the strength of it before actually standing on it entirely. He was sure that if it didn't hold the fall wouldn't kill him, but it would break damn near every bone in his body twice. He stood, facing in the exact direction he could feel Trunks' settled ki and stood in the stale air.

There had been no noise from inside the room, and Piccolo thought maybe Legolas had left, leaving him to brood. But as he turned to check he saw the elf sitting on the edge of his cot, staring beyond the granite wall and hands clutched so tightly together his knuckles had gone white.

There was a fleeting thought of jumping from the balcony so that he wouldn't have to face such a taught and hurt expression. Piccolo knew he was no good with consoling people, hell half the time with Gohan he had told the boy to suck it up or die. Well, maybe not that harshly but to the same effect.

He ducked and turned to fit back through the small doorway and stood next to Legolas, searching his thoughts as hard as he could to find something to say. He opened his mind, prepared to say whatever first popped into his head when a flash of Aragorn dragging himself from a swelled river flickered across his mind. Piccolo blinked, clearing his mind and trying to let it fall blank again, this time an image of two hobbits, looking bored and irritated sitting high in a tree brushed him.

_Enough of that_. Piccolo shook his head and looked down on the elf, still caught up in his thoughts that he didn't seem to notice Piccolo standing there over him. The Namek lowered himself to his knees and rested a tentative hand on the elf's forearm.

He expected a jump of surprise, a jerk away from his touch, but the eerie turn of the elf's head, so agonizingly slow and being bored through with non-seeing crystalline eyes was a little much. "Legolas…" At his name, the eyes cleared lightly before clouding again. Piccolo chuffed through his nose and repressed the urge to shake the creature until he broke out of his stupor. Instead, he settled for his 'Gohan-scolding' voice. "Snap out of it. Sulking isn't going to make things better."

There was a flicker of emotion in the dead eyes, something that looked like muted anger. Piccolo smiled to himself, silently pleased. "Stop acting like a child. You are a warrior, and warriors aren't supposed to cry."

There was a fracturing, somewhere deep inside the elf, and Piccolo watched transfixed as that raw anger boiled somewhere below the surface and when he met those eyes again, they were flaring. "How dare you preach to me?" The voice was little more than a grating whisper. There was a quick snap of a fist, and Piccolo felt his lip split along the side and that first sweet sting.

"What's the matter?" Piccolo narrowed his eyes, a self-satisfied smirk on his lips. "Would you like me to find you blanket? Maybe a bottle?" Those stunning eyes flashed, and Piccolo saw the next fist coming from a mile away and sat, waiting for it.

There was a cry of rage—somewhere along the way it was strangled with a sob—and the hardened body of the elf warrior tackled him to the cold stone. Fists connected with horrid accuracy, a hard hook split jade skin over a sharp cheekbone, several into his stomach and chest. Piccolo waited, occasionally blocking a blow and increasing the fury that bundled on top of him. Many of the blows didn't account for anything, not even enough to bruise his flesh as they connected to his shoulders and chest, but those that clipped his face smarted well enough and once he faintly recalled blinking away a haze of purple blood from his eye.

It was not even ten minutes later, Legolas flopped sideways, sitting beside Piccolo on the floor with his back to the bed. His breath was ragged and his hands looked raw. Piccolo sat slowly, wincing at the sharp pain that lanced through one of his antennae and licked the blood from his lip.

There was a sharp look from Legolas, but the anger was gone. Piccolo wiped a trickle of violet from his cheek and spoke softly. "Feel better?" There was a small look of surprise on the elf's face before he smiled lightly, a mere curling of the lips, and he nodded.

"Good." Piccolo grunted as he stood, still tonguing the split in his lip. His vision blurred a second and he raised a hand carefully to his head and winced harshly as his fingers probed a deep bruise at the base of his antenna.

Piccolo made it to the door, bound for his quarters by the time Legolas realized it and stopped him. "I am sorry. I did not mean to …" He waved his hand at the damage on Piccolo's face.

There was another smirk that pulled the split open a little more. "It's alright. I know."

"But it is not fine!" The bark of anger took Piccolo off guard. Usually a bout of hostility and beating things did well to drain out his raging emotions, and it worked with Gohan the majority of the time too… Legolas ran a hand through his hair. "I had no right to take out my anger on you. I should have seen what you were trying to do and just let it be."

Piccolo frowned, this isn't the way it's supposed to go. "Legolas…" The elf was staring past his shoulder, fuming silently at his lack of control. Piccolo brought a hand up and cupped one pale cheek in his palm. There was a nervous flicker in his chest that he ignored. Bending slightly he brushed a ghosted kiss along the elf's aristocratic cheekbone and turned the elf's face gently in his hand pressing his lips against the silken pout. Pins prickled up his back and almost reluctantly Piccolo stood his full height, dropping his hand from the elf's creamy skin and left, shutting the door calmly behind him.

Legolas gaped a moment at the closed door, unconsciously raising his hand to his face and touching his fingers to his lips. There was a light smear of purple on his finger pads as he pulled them away to stare at them. If nothing else, it was proof of what he thought only was his imagination.

There was a click of a door from in the hall and Legolas pressed his ear to the crack. "What the hell happened to you Namek? Fall off the battlements?" Vegeta's voice carried through the door. There was an incoherent mumble that apparently Vegeta heard and understood well enough as Legolas heard the saiyajin huff. There was a slam of a door that Legolas took as Vegeta and he pulled his own open with a flourish expecting to see Piccolo in his entry.

Instead, Vegeta was leaning against his doorjamb and he was staring at Piccolo's closed door with enough force to push it over. The saiyajin caught sight of Legolas in his entry and a small grin slipped onto his face. "So that's the Namek's problem." Legolas opened his mouth to ask him just what exactly was wrong with him but Vegeta cut him off. "Wipe your lip, elf." Legolas mindlessly raised his hand to his face and wiped at them.

There was a wry smile twisted onto Vegeta's face and a bark of laughter as he turned into his own chambers and shut his door with a solid thump. Legolas looked back and forth between the two doors and finally settled on the carven oak of Piccolo's. He touched his lips again and smiled lightly before closing his door and throwing himself across his cot.

---

Goku turned as he heard Vegeta shut the door solidly behind him. "What's going on 'Geta? I thought I heard Piccolo."

Vegeta shook his head but grinned widely. "Nothing I'm sure he can't handle." Vegeta walked around the room, running his finger of the edges of tables and shelves and frowned at the layer of dust on his fingertip. Plopping solidly into a chair, he looked up and noticed Goku had turned back to the window.

"What is it Kakkarot?"

Goku looked over his shoulder and shrugged lightly. "I'm kind of worried about Trunks. Why would he have to charge up? And in the middle of the night? I hope he's okay." Goku mumbled and began to chew his lip thoughtfully.

Vegeta stepped up beside him, gazing out into the twilight. "It was a dream most likely." Goku looked down at him with an arched eyebrow. "When the boy was here last he'd wake up in the night screaming his fool head off. I thought it was just something stupid, but one night I had had quite enough of being woken up by the simpering brat and stormed into his room." Vegeta's eyes had gotten distant and Goku turned fully toward him in worry. "He was curled up in the corner of his bed whimpering like a dog and when I shook him he screamed. It was all profanity and some mumbled nonsense about the androids and when he finally snapped out of it and saw I was standing over his bed he shut up entirely, his eyes dry and pretended that nothing had happened."

Goku frowned, something about this explanation sounded familiar. "What Vegeta?" His voice low and comforting. The saiyajin prince sighed deeply and looked up at Goku.

"It is not my place to say. But everything, the nightmares, crying and sobbing until you realize it was a dream, putting up the façade that you were being foolish and everything was perfectly fine…" Vegeta trailed off, looked down at his feet. At some point he had crossed his arms over his chest but instead of it looking defensive he seemed to be hugging himself.

Pulling Vegeta into his arms and ignored the prince as he stiffened. Goku set his chin on his Ouji's head and glared in the direction of icy ki. He had seen Vegeta simpering in his sleep and whenever he woke him or asked him about it in the morning, Vegeta would get defensive and angry. But Goku wasn't simple, he knew that Freeza had done horrible things and the majority of them were unnamable. He didn't need to protect Vegeta, but damned if he didn't pull that effeminate beast limb from limb for causing his prince pain.

There was a poke to his ribs and Goku yelped. Vegeta turned his face up and smirked. "Stop growling, baka."

A sly grin wormed onto Goku's face. "Make me."

Vegeta's eyes widened a fraction before narrowing into slits. "Was that a challenge?"

Goku stepped back, cocking his head to the side appearing as though in deep thought. Finally he stroked his chin and nodded. "Yes, I think it was." He grinned widely and let out another deep growl that had little to do with anger before Vegeta leapt at him, tumbling them both to the floor in a heap.

Goku tried not to laugh at the situation, but a peal rang out anyway. Vegeta glared up at him from his perch on the larger saiyajin's chest. Not pleased with the results he bent forward and bit into the sensitive skin at the juncture of Goku's neck and shoulder. The laughter immediately died away and Vegeta grinned as he lapped at the sore tissue.

A small purr rippled the air as Vegeta continued to nip and kiss at the exposed skin of Goku's neck and chest. Goku fisted Vegeta's hair in one hand and traced slow circles along Vegeta's back with his fingers. An aura of total contentment melded into them and Vegeta noticed that his eyes were drooping shut slowly and after a few minutes struggle, lazily kissed Goku on the lips and curled up lightly on the man's chest.

Silence met them and Goku sighed softly, running his fingers through Vegeta's hair and staring up at the steeple ceiling. "'Geta?" The saiyajin prince recognized his name but hadn't the strength left to answer and settled for a quiet 'hn' and nuzzled his face deeper into Goku's chest. "We could die here."

Vegeta struggled to lift his head and squinted at Goku's face. "Right now?"

Goku laughed a little and Vegeta grinned as he bounced. "No, I mean, we might not make it back to our world. We could get really hurt." There was a grunt from the bundle on his chest. "I mean it Vegeta. Don't do anything stupid okay?"

The Ouji lifted his head again, looking annoyed at not being allowed to sleep. "Fine, Kakkarot. I won't do anything foolish. But you can't play the hero." Goku nodded. "And if someone gets killed I don't want you blaming yourself, got it?" Vegeta narrowed his eyes and poked his finger into Goku's chest for effect.

"Got it, 'Geta." Goku sighed and Vegeta snuggled back in. Time passed and Goku continued to rub at Vegeta's back. "Do you think you could get up, the floor isn't very comfortable?"

There was a small growl from the prince followed by a clipped, "No."

Goku grinned and tightened his hold on Vegeta before rolling to his side and standing, taking his ouji with him. He stepped to the bed and dropped Vegeta. The small saiyajin let out a startled, eep, before he bounced on the bedding. Growling, Vegeta grabbed hold of Goku's tunic and hauled him down, biting into his shoulder hard enough to draw blood. Goku yelped struggled to get away, laughing, while Vegeta pulled him down to the bed and frowned at him with blood on his lips.

"If we're going to die soon, we may as well make the best of it." Vegeta grinned at Goku's perplexed expression, gripped twin handfuls of tunic and reamed on the stiff material until it split down the middle, leaving an exposed chest and stomach and a gaping Goku.

Realizing his mouth was open, Goku clacked it shut and began to formulate some semblance of coherent thought like, just what the hell did Vegeta think he was doing, and how was he supposed to fix his shirt? But before any of them could make it to his throat for vocalization the overload of tactile sensation sent him teetering on the edge of oblivion. Or at least that's what it felt like, sweet excitement and adrenaline, that borderline feeling that you're insane for doing this but just as insane if you stop.

Hands, teeth, lips and tongue were dancing and flittering over every bit of flesh that was open for exploration. Goku groaned as a thigh pressed into his groin, and in reply was rewarded with a nip on a nipple and a ghosting hand searching for something at his lower back.

Not one to play unfairly, Goku fisted the hair at the back of Vegeta's head and effectively hauled the ouji back up his body and kissed him hard enough to bruise. When he pulled back, Vegeta's face was flushed with a wicked glint in his eyes. There was a snapping snarl Goku didn't even realize he let out as he craned the Ouji's neck to the side and laved the exposed column with his tongue and grazed at the pulse beneath his lips with sharp teeth.

A low growl from the Ouji, in warning or lust he wasn't sure which, and he grinned and settled for nibbling an earlobe. Strong fingers still dug into his back and Goku had nearly forgotten about them between his own ministrations and the friction of that maddening thigh that still rested between his legs, but he remembered them with a bright flash of light and harsh panting cry as those same fingers pressed into a small spot just about his tailbone. When his vision finally blurred back into focus he gazed at Vegeta's hovering face in awe. The saiyajin prince was looking contentedly down at him but the deep flush and hunger in his eyes told Goku that the smaller enjoyed whatever he had seen.

A smirk pulled at lightly swollen lips and Vegeta lowered his head and breathed into his ear. "Again?"

Not sure he could speak if he wanted, Goku nodded. As he felt fingers travel again he clamped Vegeta tightly to him as delicious pressure was driven through him. Goku arched from the bed, hissing through his teeth and felt the clothed heat above him and decided that it just wouldn't do.

As soon as he grabbed hold of Vegeta's tunic the rest of their clothing was lost in a flurry of movement and eagerness. The slide of slick skin was nearly enough for their undoing and Vegeta bit his lip until blood trialed down his chin. Goku lapped at the trickle, feeling fire burn in his stomach at the copper on his tongue.

"'Geta…" A breathy groan barely able to contain the name and Vegeta nodded, knowing the deep need and pull of fulfillment all bound into that one word. He coated his hand in saliva and gripped Goku's manhood, trying to keep the larger saiyajin from bucking him, and rested his free hand on Goku's chest. Raising himself, Vegeta painstakingly lowered himself atop Goku, the third class holding his breath stroking Vegeta's face and neck.

It took only a moment's time that felt like a blessed eternity until Vegeta began to rock. Goku growled, feeling a horrible need to leap into super saiyajin but his energy was bound tight under that invisible barrier. Vegeta groaned, pulling Goku up and kissed him long and hard, losing himself to everything. The next morning he would surely go over this and compare it to the fantasies he had ever had and would blow each of them out of the water with all the nearly painful-it-was-so-damned-pleasurable sensation.

A deft hand was curled around his waist, and Vegeta didn't have the breath to cry out as thick fingers ground into his tail scar. Stars danced in his vision and every muscle in his body curled tight and released, his climax hitting him so hard and sweet he thought he'd pass out.

Goku grunted and pulled Vegeta hard to his chest nipping at his neck and breathing heavily into his ear as his Ouji peaked and he groaned as tight muscles clamped around him and he buried his face into Vegeta's shoulder as he cried out in release.

The panting died away, Vegeta still clutched to Goku's chest, and slowly he let the ouji go and rolled over and grasped the remains of his tunic. He cleaned them up lazily, a somber and languid mood draped across him. He dropped the soiled garment to the floor and pulled Vegeta to him. The ouji curled into him, nearly asleep, and Goku pet his damp locks and gazed out the window into the night. More worried thoughts began to seep back into his head and he pushed them away. Vegeta was purring lightly in his sleep and Goku kissed the top of his head before pulling a blanket up over both of them and tried to rest.


	17. Clarity and Confusion

a/n: Just so everyone is aware. I return home soon, and with no computer. I am going to try desperately to get a hold of one somewhere and finish this. Until then, I'm going to at least have posted up through the battle of Helm's Deep, and hopefully at least a chapter or two after. That'll be roughly 2 or 3 chapters before a decidedly annoying (and probably lengthy) break from the story.

So sorry! -.-;;

---

Morning found Piccolo sitting on the outer rim, archers and other would-be warriors walked by him. He had been sitting there so long they didn't even bother to stare at him or step widely around. Visions of last nights meditation danced through his head, a jumble of things that could mean nothing and everything. He hoped that Gandalf would appear again soon, maybe then he could tell the aged wizard about them and maybe get some answers. What bothered him the most out of all the mess of thoughts were the flashes of Freeza's laughing face and an echoing scream of pain that sounded horribly like Goku.

He rubbed unconsciously at the base of his bruised antenna, it had healed well overnight, after he had returned to his chambers he drank an entire pitcher of water and wound up getting three more before the night was over with. The split in his lip and cheek were nonexistent, and the few bruises he had gotten were nothing but light tingles. He thanked Dende that could still heal well enough without his ki, but then again what were bruises and cuts? But then it had taken a couple of hours instead of a few seconds.

Heaving his bulk from the bricks, Piccolo stood and stretched, not hearing the surprise from the poor boy that had been walking by who was startled badly enough to drop a quiver of arrows. Turning his head, Piccolo saw the boy shivering as he picks up the arrows and stuffs them back into the quiver in his hands. Stooping, Piccolo grips several at once in his large hands and offers them to the child. The boy looked surprised, and Piccolo tried to look less menacing.

A thick lock of muddy-brown hair falls across the boys face and Piccolo had a fleeting memory of Gohan when he was a child with heavy unruly hair. "What's your name, boy?"

The child grimaced as he heard the question, a small prick of pain in Piccolo's chest reminded him his newfound heart was all but impenetrable but to the reaction of children. "Geoff…" The boy's voice is low and quiet. "Geoff, son of Miran the smithy of Rohan."

"Well, Geoff, what are you doing with arrows?" Piccolo tried to smile, making the boy cringe, and settled for a placid look instead.

"The men in the towers asked me to bring it to them. I want to help." Geoff stuck out his chin, trying to look important.

Piccolo stood and helped the boy to his feet. "I'm sure you're father is proud of you."

Geoff smiled then, bright and wide and Piccolo felt a little better for scaring the poor kid half to death earlier. The boy nodded and slung the quiver over his shoulder, running off toward a far battlement. Piccolo watched for a minute before looking down into the open arena below him. An endless bustle of women and children and groups of men talking quietly about the coming of battle were far below him.

A peal of pleasant laughter cut through most of the noise and much of the background chatter died away as everyone looked about to see where the sound came from. Piccolo spotted its source walking tall next to Gimli. The elf looked less weary today, but there was still a haze of mourning around his shoulders.

Legolas, as though knowing he was being watched, looked directly up at Piccolo and nodded imperceptibly before continuing his chat with the son of Gloin.

_Well, at least it doesn't look like he's going to throttle me for last night._ Piccolo straightened and forced the pleasant tingle of reminder of just what he had done down. Then tried his best to ignore all the nagging little voices of reason away as they chattered about all the horrible implications that the one little pathetic kiss could cost him.

He felt the resting form of Kami stretch in his mind and frowned deeply, pressing the old guardian back into his corner of the mind, studiously demanding that the old fool just stay the hell out of his thoughts. Piccolo had willingly allowed in the more formidable and useful knowledge the old guardian had on tap when they had fused, but the remains were put aside for a reason. Or at least that's what he kept telling himself even when bits of information were popping up unexpectedly, _It's not important, leave it alone old man!_

Piccolo had a flush of relief when it felt as though the repressed memories were going to stop, but when he felt a stirring of Nail he quickly made his way through the crowds toward his rooms before he began to talk animatedly to himself. He didn't apologize as he practically tossed people from his way and was entirely oblivious that one of them had been Vegeta and that he was being stared after by a pair of flaming onyx eyes— the lithe body they were part of being barely held back by the strong arms of his lover—and another set of bright orbs that watched curiously as he stalked away.

It took far less time to get back to his chambers than it had last night, and now Piccolo was sitting on a rather uncomfortable stone bench that served as a chair in his rooms, his head in his hands. Memory clips from Kami and Nail had begun bombarding his exposed mind half way to his quarters.

_Scenes of Namek in dull sunshine, the pungent smell of earth turned over as hands that were not his dug through the garden. He could even feel the small pebbles and grains of sand under his nails. Strong warrior hands busting up the dry clay, Nail's hands._ He felt a smile tug at the corner of his grimacing mouth through the haze of dream, Nail had enjoyed the calm of working on the fields.

_Then, he was looking at himself—as odd as it seemed—and he could tell this was from Kami. He could see himself stagger and sway, bloody and torn. Piccolo vaguely remembered this from his own memories, passing out on the Lookout after a rather vicious bout of training. What he didn't remember was Kami's panic and moving so quickly to catch him before he hit the stones._ A flicker of some unknown emotion in his chest—he wasn't sure if it was from Kami's memory or his own feeling.

_There was the sound of footsteps racing behind him, Piccolo felt himself tense as the memory came, but the person only stayed seated waiting. A small body pounced and there was a breathy giggle, Nail's hands came to view again and pulled a hyper Dende into his arms, no more than three years old._ A warm feeling from the memory brought another smile and soft sigh through Piccolo's surprised lips.

_Still on Namek, gazing out a window at the alien sky.__ A warm hand settled onto his shoulder and Piccolo felt himself turn and smile. He saw words form on the stranger namek's face and picked out 'Nail' from somewhere in the sentence. The face before him changed slowly and heat rose into Piccolo's face as he realized what this memory was. The stranger gripped him/Nail and pulled him/Nail into a strong embrace, kissing the tip of one ear and then his/Nail's neck. His/Nail's hands roamed, resting one on a hip, the other gripping the material of the stranger's robes. A smoldering look bored into his/Nail's..._ and Piccolo pushed the memory away, not wanting to see something so personal.

_A field filled with swaying timothy grass, the echo of the waterfall behind him._ My own memory?_ A familiar ki came close and sat down beside him. He didn't turn his head to acknowledge the saiyajin half-breed until he heard Gohan's voice call to him. The boy was no longer, sitting a full grown man and smiling shyly as he held a bundle out to Piccolo to hold. Nervousness clutched his chest again, as it had then, and he saw himself take the child into his large hands, Gohan's daughter yawned up at him from her blankets only weeks old. He smiled down at her, and the girl gurgled, clenching one chubby hand reaching for him. Panic as the infant wiggled, afraid he would hurt her, drop her…love her. Gohan's hand rested on his shoulder. 'I trust you, Piccolo.' He smiled up at him, feeling so much emotion he had never felt and he bent over the bundle in his hands. He stared into the girls large eyes and wished her everything, anything her heart ever wanted; and Pan cooed up at him, as though she understood._

Piccolo blinked as the memories stopped suddenly, and he thought of Pan again. Remembered watching the girl as she started to chatter in baby talk, how Gohan had told her to leave Piccolo alone so he could meditate only for Piccolo to scowl at him and listen as the girl went on and on in her own language. Smiled to himself as she took her first steps and fell to her bottom, could see the scowl on her little face as she pulled herself up again…just like her father.

He played back pieces of the other memories, feeling out the theme between them and frowned at his hands that now rested loosely in his lap. To feel, to touch—and enjoy it, understanding and compassion and so many forms of love and like and lust it made his head swim. But that was the whole point wasn't it? To feel, and get lost in it, even if it was foolish and simple—primal even. To have a moment is better than to have none.

"I get it old man." Piccolo spoke quietly, rubbing at the base of his antennae with his thumbs. A shuddering sigh echoed across his room, and Piccolo nodded to himself. If he was going to allow himself to feel, to touch, to understand…he'd have to have someone willing enough to recognize how out of character and hard the task would be. In the back of his mind he hoped to the heavens that Legolas would—and in a region far from Middle Earth, Kami smiled.

---

It had taken a total of twenty minutes to calm Vegeta down enough so that Goku would release him knowing the Ouji wasn't going to track the Namek down and kill him. Now, the two sat with Gimli and Legolas at a table, eating and making light conversation.

Goku for his part tried to keep from straying and asking how the elf was feeling. It was his experience that whenever something bad happened you didn't always want to talk about it right away, and if Legolas wanted to talk, he'd find someone himself. So for now, Goku remained being polite and listening attentively, just in case the elf decided he needed an ear to bend and was just looking for someone to listen.

"It is far too dreary a day to sit out." Gimli was gazing up into the sky, thick with heavy clouds that looked ready to pop.

Vegeta grunted, rather mellow today considering the Piccolo incident was passed over. "It will rain before the nights out." Gimli nodded, agreeing entirely.

Goku sniffed the air, the moisture so thick he knew it was true as well. He glanced over to Legolas and saw the elf was gazing off into the distance, entranced in one thing or another. "What do you think, Legolas?"

The elf blinked and turned back to them. "It is already starting to rain on the plains, but it won't reach here for some time. The air seems to be still, as though the Valar itself is holding its breath."

They all looked at him oddly, Gimli with his your-just-a-crazy-elf look for a moment before a hailing call from the tower caught their attention. "Open the gate! A rider!"

Goku scratched the back of his head, wondering why the commotion, but Legolas jumped to his feet as though he were struck and began to race toward the opening doors. Startled, Goku got to his feet as well and Vegeta languidly got to his own to follow the younger saiyajin as he trailed the elf.

The murmur of the crowds as they got wind of something particularly juicy was escalating the closer they got, and Goku arrived at the head of the stairs in time to see Aragorn blast through the heavy oak doors. Vegeta grinned muttering a quiet, 'Impressive.'

Goku watched as Legolas nearly glided down the remaining stairs and stood before the Ranger. There was a struggling ki above him, and Goku looked up at the overlay there and saw Piccolo tense as he watched Legolas and Aragorn, no doubt drawn by the noise of the crowd.

Turning back to the two who now had the riveted attention of the entire entourage, Goku smiled lightly as Legolas pulled something from his pocket and handed it to the ranger. They paused a moment before the saiyajin heard a strained sentence that the elf was trying to make sound lighthearted. "You're late."

When the two embraced roughly, the ki above him stuttered, and Goku looked to his friend in shock but Piccolo was no longer looking down at the scene below him, instead was peering into the sky. Goku could see the Namek clench his fists and thought the sky above darkened but was sure it was only a trick of the brain. In a flurry, Piccolo turned on his heel and soon disappeared as he headed back from where he came.

Scratching his head, Goku frowned down at Vegeta but the saiyajin prince was not looking at him, instead his usually scowling face was lax and he dropped his eyes from the high wall and looked at Legolas and Aragorn, now walking toward Théoden, and a small sigh huffed through his nose.

"This won't be good." Vegeta then looked up at Goku as though he hadn't spoken aloud and gestured that they follow the two disappearing Middle Earth warriors and find out what exactly was going on.

---

The ride the following morning was a bit harder than the first day for Mirai. Not only was he stiff and sore from the riding the day before, but he also had the mornings surprise wake-up constantly peeking back up into his thoughts.

It had certainly been a surprise. One moment Trunks was warm and comfortable, somewhere between sleep and consciousness and was quite content, nuzzling his face deeper into the warmth in front of him. That in itself would have been fine—even though his mind wondered idly what exactly would be warm in the middle of nowhere for him to snuggle to—but then just as he ignored it and started to drift off again, the warmth decided to snigger. It was then, that embarrassment ensued, followed by some rather red-faced moments.

Mirai stiffened, raising his head and blanched to see a pair of steel grey eyes staring down at him in amusement. Mouth gaping as he recognized the charming face, he tried to backpedal away only to roll over and thump soundly into a snoozing Elladan—who on contact blinked and smiled in a lazy 'I know I'm sexy' kind of way.

With a moment of near panic, Trunks finally leapt to his feet, stumbling back a pace before catching himself and looked between the two twins who only gazed idly back at him from their reclined positions on the earth.

"Wha…I, huh?" Trunks resisted the urge to scratch his head and settled for a deep cleansing breath before finger combing his hair from his face. After another long moment of bemused smiles from the twins at his feet Trunks finally grinned back and went to his satchel in search for breakfast.

Things settled for a time as they ate, and then the recollection of just how it was that Trunks wound up tucked between the beautiful elfin twins came back to him and his embarrassment returned.

Now, on the move again, Mirai tried not to groan as his thighs and hips creaked and ached from horseback. He was sure if he had to suffer the riding for another solid day he'd sooner leave the beast in a field and run ahead if they refused him to fly.

And it went, quiet and contemplative in their own heads well into noon without a single thing except the passing of land to mark their travel. The sun was well hidden under a thick layer of clouds for the better part of the day and when they darkened Mirai grimaced, waiting for the rain he could feel prickling his skin.

He was about to ask what they would do when it began to pour, but Elladan suddenly pulled up on his reigns and looked into the distance, holding out a hand to his brother who rode quickly to his side.

"_Mani__ um lle elei?_"  Elrohir spoke quietly, gazing off into the distance trying to find what made his brother pause. Trunks, now ahead, had finally gotten his horse to stop and was trying to turn his mount to sidle up to them.

Elladan nodded his head and pointed. "_Eller.__ Da estolada."_ He paused as his keen vision scanned. His brother soon grunted lightly as he caught sight.

"_Vi quo minque._" Elrohir mumbled to himself. He narrowed his eyes and a small smile tipped the corners of his lips. "Riders of Rohan."

Finally giving up and fully irritated when his horse began to graze, Trunks called over to them. "What's going on?"

Elladan nickered at Trunks' horse and the animal straightened and trotted happily over to them. Trunks gave it a withering look before looking pointedly between the twins waiting for an answer.

"There is a camp in the distance, several tents set up." Elrohir looked up into the sky suddenly and frowned. "Waiting out the storm."

Mirai nodded, he had already known the rains were coming though he had yet to feel a single drop. "What are we going to do?"

Elladan smiled broadly at him, "Asking for a temporary shelter of course." Before Elrohir or Trunks could refute his idea, Elladan quickly took off. Elrohir rolled his eyes and soon followed after his brother. Trunks glared down at his horse that had yet to take a step.

"Animal, if you don't move I'll cook you for dinner." Growled Trunks. Whether it was the threat or the tone that shocked the animal, it had the desired effect and with a small help, Trunks clung to the mane as it sped off toward the disappearing elves.

---

It was falling dark, whether the storm clouds were the cause or the ending of the day, Piccolo wasn't sure. As a matter of fact, he wasn't sure of much at the moment except the bubbling of anger just under his skin. The anger ate at him like acid, but instead of lashing out at those around him, Piccolo wandered aimlessly through the alleyways and paths of Helm's Deep. It would do no good to beat someone else to a pulp when the person he was angry with was himself.

Fuming silently, he realized that people were literally running from his rampage as he scowled deeply. The muscles of his face were twitching and aching from the continual fuming, and the more they twinged the angrier he got.

After turning and stalking down a small set of narrow steps, Piccolo nearly collided with a small group of boys all huddled together talking quietly. As soon as his presence was known the chattering died away as they all gaped at him. He tried not to sneer at them but it didn't make much difference as they all cringed back from him anyway. They probably would have run but they were all in a decent sized room and the only entrance and exit was blocked by the hulking form of the Namek.

Tentatively a small boy made his way to the front. Piccolo recognized him and tamped down on his anger as best he could. Geoff smiled weakly up at him. "Are you alright Mr. Piccolo?"

The anger chipped, cracked and began to fall uselessly at his feet. Piccolo smiled a genuine small smile and nodded. "Yea, kid. I'm fine." Geoff grinned up at him and nodded to his friends around him.

It was then that Piccolo noticed that this pack of children, barely strong enough to hold a sword let alone use one, were entirely bedecked in a warriors gear down to the wide leather belts and tin tipped boots. Pointing down at the sword on the boy's hip that was dragging lightly on the floor, Piccolo quirked an eyebrow and asked "What are you doing with those?"

Geoff paled lightly and gripped the hilt in one small hand. "We're fighting the orc." The boy's lip trembled lightly and Piccolo frowned deeply.

"Why would a boy fight orc?"

Another child, looking older than the rest but still no more than twelve spoke quietly from the back. "By order of the King." Piccolo held the boy's gaze until he the child finally quailed and looked down at his booted feet. In a quiet whisper he continued. "Did you not hear? The war is coming."

Straightening and trying not to look thrown, Piccolo looked out across them. A few toward the back looked on the verge or panic, their eyes swimming in unshed tears. Others looked pale and withdrawn, while still a select few had squared their narrow shoulders and looked ready to take that first blow right on the chin.

After a solid scrutinizing minute that had all of the boys in the room squirming, Piccolo 'hmphed' and crossed his arms over his chest. "Do any of you know how to use those?" Piccolo jabbed his finger in the direction of the weapons hanging from the nearest boy's belt. There was a sea of shaking heads and Piccolo was ready to blast King Théoden and half of the morons in Helm's Deep for dressing boys to play their war games. After thinking critically, Piccolo nodded to himself and looked across the faces of worried youth. "Alright, I think I can help you learn a few simple things. If nothing else you can defend yourselves."

There was an almost excited chittering around him and Piccolo sighed through his nose before taking a sword from a nearby set of Armor and called their attention. If the feeling in the back of his mind was any indicator, he didn't have a whole lot of time.

He spent nearly an hour, barely hearing the blaring of a far off horn and the excitement from the people above and around them. The elves that came, the flustered women who cried while hugging their husbands and sons, and a set of horror filled crystalline eyes that watched him work with the children were all unbidden. All that mattered to one Piccolo Diahmao Jr. was the training of boys, and to his eyes all of them that smiled at him did so with the face of a certain saiyajin child.

---

On a balcony above the enclosed room, three sets of eyes gazed down at the small pack of children and one towering Namek. One set friendly and familiar smiled down at his friend, unwieldy raven hair sticking off of his head in every direction. "It's amazing how good he is with kids." Goku beamed, watching the severe patience that Piccolo was showing to the boys he was training.

A nod of silver-blonde hair beside him and Haldir of Lorien's grim face smoothed a fraction. He looked over at the other, flaxen hair obscuring the marchwarden's view of Legolas' face. "I would not have pegged him as a fatherly type." Haldir's voice was softly lilted with the sylvan tongue.

Goku nodded beside him. "He wouldn't admit it, but I think he likes teaching."

Unnoticed by the others beside him, Legolas paled as he watched the Namek move through a set of moves and pause to help one of the smaller children with his stance. Flashes of memory he had repressed tried to resurface and he let them as his stomach knotted painfully.

There was a bit of suppressed laughter and he glanced at Goku, the saiyajin still looking happily down at his friend. "Out of everything on the earth, I think kids are going to be the death of him." Haldir spared a small grin and nod. Neither noticing as Legolas clutched the railing and swallowed thickly at the lump in his throat.

"Kakkarot!"

The saiyajin's head turned and at the end of the walkway was an anxious looking Vegeta. Before Goku could open his mouth to ask what was going on, the Ouji held up a hand and grinned at him. "They're coming."

"Who—" Goku frowned but was cut off.

"Those orc. Can't you smell them?" Vegeta smirked. "I'm just in the mood for a little battle."

Haldir narrowed his eyes and scowled at the eagerness that suddenly filled both saiyajin and instead turned and looked out across the plains. His keen elf eyes picking up on the masses of orc and Urak-hai that were moving in the distance. Before he could run to tell Aragorn, the cry went up along the wall and the world was set into motion. Haldir leapt to action, headed for the battlements and Aragorn, Legolas at his heels.

Below them, Piccolo looked up and saw Goku and Vegeta talking animatedly, well Goku talking and Vegeta listening. Before long a uniform cry came to them and the boys around him all paled, shaking. It was time…

---

_Mani__ um lle elei?_ : what do you see?

_Eller.__ Da estolada._ : there. A camp.

_Vi__ quo minque._ : ten or eleven


	18. The Deeds of Helm's Deep

a/n: Just a quick one. This chapter is all Helm's Deep battle and is a songfic. Meh, I love the song and for some reason it seemed to fit the mood at the background. Sarah McLachlan – I Love You  
  
---  
  
_{ I have a smile _

_Stretched from ear to ear _

_To see you walking down the road }_  
  
Legolas frowned up at the sky a moment before the clouds ripped open and fat beads of rain began to fall mercilessly upon them. Within seconds he was soaked through his first layer and blinked a trickle of water from his eyes. Gimli stood beside him, a grim expression on his face as he clutched the handle of his axe and stared out across the ocean of orc that seemed to trail on for miles before disappearing in the mists of the rainstorm. He looked at those in his peripheral vision, picking out the unique raven locks of the saiyajins somewhere to his left. A dull void of emotion pulsed in his chest when he recognized a haze of jade just beyond them. A desire to turn and embrace the Namek shook his resolve so strongly he forced his limbs to still as they nearly began to move him without consent. Instead he ignored it and focused on the rain as it beaded on the stones before him and watched them roll down the cracks.  
  
The elfin archers stood poised and ready, Haldir amongst them standing with shoulders squared and expression tight. Beside him stood the heir of Isuldir, Aragorn's calculating gaze sweeping across first the orc hordes and then scanning their own numbers. He suppressed a grunt of compliance, already knowing that they were far outnumbered and may actually die here surrounded by elves and other men of middle earth. The notion didn't rile him like he thought it would, and he thinned his lips as he willed the reflection away. Instead he thought quickly of Arwen, her beautiful face looming before him and he felt the need to reach out and trail his fingers across her aristocratic features, so soft and welcoming. But he blinked and the vision was gone. Unconsciously he brought a hand to his throat and wrapped his fingers around the pendant at the hollow of his throat, whispering a prayer to his love that was sucked away with the wind and thrown to the Valar.  
  
Piccolo stood rigid, his warrior spirit pulsing strong and steady in him, willing his resolve and strength to prepare themselves for what was coming. He tried vainly to ignore the outside influences that would impede his thoughts, but the shivering forms of several dozen boys behind him and a single rain-soaked elf to his right would not leave him at peace. His heart tugged, sorrowed and helpless with the feelings trapped in it. Wanting to devour the Mirkwood prince where he stood, but his stubborn pride was so thick it could rival Vegeta's and it was not letting go of the jealousy and hurt he felt earlier.  
  
Beside the Namek, Vegeta gazed out calmly over the orc and he sneered at the wafting stench that came from them. Even the rain did little to rinse away the stink. For a fleeting moment he felt the icy ki of Freeza and considered a recollection of his time under the tyrants reign, as though he was once again a purger of planets and now he stood facing the inhabitants before he would blow them into bits of ash. Solid warmth moved beside him and the feel of Goku's presence made the memories fade. He was actually on the side of good for once and fighting for someone other than himself or his own property. It was oddly invigorating and with a sudden clarity wondered if this was why Goku protected Earth and its inhabitants from all invaders, even if he did not get his just recognition. He looked up at the saiyajin third class then and saw that the other was watching him as well. He smirked up at him and grasped the front of Goku's tunic in one fist, hauling him down to his level and kissed him with all the pent up apprehension and energy in his being. To his great pleasure, the other pure blood responded with as much fervor and after they pulled apart went back to staring at their enemy as though nothing happened—ignoring the gaping looks and startled chokes of those around them.  
  
Archers stood ready, bows tensed and drawn in skilled hands. Time seemed to stand still and to many the only thing that kept them in reality was the steady beating of the rainfall and the smell of smoke that blew on them from time to time as the winds shifted. With a snap, an arrow loosed and the noise was like a crack of lightening in the silence, an angry call ordered them to hold but the orc were furious as one of their members fell with a solid thump onto the wet earth. The wind stilled and for a moment the earth herself held her breath in anticipation.  
  
_{We meet at the lights_

_ I stare for a while_

_ The world around disappears}_  
  
And so it began. The roar of the beasts below them was deafening and so continuous it was near maddening. The elves frowned as their sensitive ears began to ache and at the order to fire gladly loosed their shots to silence the noise. Stamping feet and louder, more guttural, yells echoed from the fortress walls. Arrows were notched again and set free as the melee began.  
  
Legolas was set in motion, moving with such skill and precession he had felled seven beasts before Gimli had time to lean over the edge and yell down at the orc to hurry and 'meet his axe'. There was a rough laugh from some of the men in earshot and the dwarf curled his lip in a snarl as he spat further insults down the fortress walls.  
  
The saiyajins could feel their skin itching with anticipation, but the way things were working they wouldn't have to bloody their knuckles. A cry from Aragorn in elfish rang past their ears and they stared around, wondering what the problem was. Vegeta saw it first, the orc with the torch in his hands running through the splitting sea of orc bodies. He narrowed his eyes wondering what good a flame would be to stone. Soon his wonder turned to mute fear as he saw Legolas shoot the beast once, twice before it stumbled but kept trucking like mad. Vegeta never had the need for gunpowder in any form at any point in his long and tedious life, but he knew that soon something set fire below was going to rock the fortress and tumble its guards down.  
  
He gripped Goku's forearm in a tight fist and felt the younger freeze up under his hold. "Hang on Kakkarot." And the sky blazed with fire and raining stone.  
  
"The wall has been breached! Draw your weapons!" Cries of anger and shock carried down through the ranks. Goku stared at the crater where a solid wall once stood and nodded his head to Vegeta before leaping from his position on the wall and joined the coming orc head on. Some men cried out, the fool from another world would be crushed and dismembered and stared after him through the swirling dust and smoke.  
  
As though the Valar wanted the creatures of Middle Earth to see what strength of force they had on their side, a wind blew and the smoke and dust was swept away so they could watch the angry saiyajin as he let loose.  
  
There was a snarl, deep and rolling that sent shivers up the backs of the men of Middle Earth and to their shock the orc that were pouring through the hole paused a moment in alarm before they continued undaunted. Goku gripped the closest with both hands, hauling the creature into his body before heaving it backward with all of his strength. Bowled over, the orc howled as its ribs caved under the pressure and it was blown backward knocking over several dozen running Urak-hai with its body and flailing limbs.  
  
The single act took seconds and before another could blink blue-black blood began to smear across the face and tunic of the sole warrior as he wrenched an orc arm free from its socket. There was a cry of triumph and new courage as the mass of men moved as one, swords shining and hair matted to their heads as they joined, flaying beasts around them and keeping one eye on the saiyajin lest they get in his way.  
  
_{Just you and me_

_On this island of hope _

_A breath between us could be miles}  
_  
Piccolo grinned at Vegeta as the saiyajin growled low in his chest as he watched his lover tear into an Urak-hai and haul half of the poor creature's intestines out as he withdrew his fist. It took Vegeta a matter of seconds before he was soon down on the muddy ground cleaving through the intruders with Goku by his side.  
  
"Bar the door!"  
  
Piccolo looked down the lip of the building and saw a train of Urak-hai rushing along with a large ramming log between them. The first blow caused a great groan and squeals of wood and hinge. He could feel the pulse of his energy below the surface heaving against the barrier that bound him and he growled low and annoyed when he could do nothing. If only he could loose even a fraction he could blast the group to hell with one ball of ki.  
  
He vaguely heard Legolas call over to Gimli with the number of his kills before he turned to let loose another arrow. Piccolo bit his lip and scanned the area around him, he couldn't lose focus on the battle around them because of the elf, no matter how badly he wanted to simply stare after him.  
  
The cry of a familiar group of children below him had his heart hammering in his chest. Taking a deep breath, Piccolo turned and gazed around until his eyes settled on the boys below him milling around in the mud. They were still all together, swords drawn and eyes the size of saucers. The men at the hole in the wall were doing well to keep down the number that trailed in, but there were so many more Urak-hai and orc than their were people in Helm's Deep that the small trickle soon turned into a great river of them that ran straight through many of the men and trampled them under their great feet. All emotion drained from him as he watched the orc devastate everything they touched. It took him only split second to realize that a great pack of them were headed directly at the children below him. With a scowl and determination etched across his stern features, he leapt from the edge of the building and landed several feet from the boys. The Urak-hai were grinning madly at the stricken children, eyeing them as though they were appetizers.  
  
"Over here!" Piccolo's gravely voice boomed out. He snarled and curled his lip up over his fangs. The leaders of the pack turned to him and he took a stance, beckoning them over with a curl of his fingers. They snapped their jaws at him and turned a little so that they changed course and instead of heading for the boys, they were all watching him with intense hatred. As they neared he felt a swelling in his chest, so very similar to that killing blow from Nappa ages ago as he dove in front of Gohan, and he welcomed it with open arms and clenched fists.  
  
_{Let me surround you_

_ My sea to your shore _

_Let me be the calm you seek}_  
  
Gimli called out his number to Legolas, but the elf hadn't heard him. A deep explosive voice had caught his attention first and his heart had stopped beating. Turning, he looked down at the scene he had dreaded when he first dreamt it days ago. Gimli gave the elf a funny look but continued his assault, beating away at ladders and grappling hook rope.  
  
Legolas felt the world slow to a stop, the first beast was within Piccolo's striking distance and it seemed a snap shot of action. The Namek's fist cocked back and muscles along his arm and shoulder bunched up tight in wait. The orc before him paused in mid-flight, sneering and snarling with weapons above their heads in the ready. Then time snapped back like elastic and everything rushed together.  
  
Piccolo's fist busted through the nearest head, spraying bone and gore. A dull blade swung and he ducked, the edge missing by nearly a foot. The orc were pushing, slowly the small space between them was filled and there was no room for calculation as bodies curled under forces of punches and kicks. Legolas even fought a grin as he saw the alien head-butt an orc in the nose and heard the creature scream.  
  
The horror started then, as he turned to shoot an orc behind him as its slimy fingers brushed his hair, Legolas heard a howl that made his blood run cold. He spun again, Piccolo had ripped some creatures arm off and was beating at the others with it, a deep gash across one of his shoulders ran with violet blood. They had surrounded him on all sides and as he tried to leap back from the swing of another blade the solid bodies of twenty orc cushioned him and bounced him back, the edge cutting deep into Piccolo's side.  
  
With a cry of rage, Legolas raised a hand to his quiver and dread as his fingers found nothing but air. A sick déjà vu gripped him as he tried not to panic and instead looked around him before gripping an arrow from a fallen orc nearby and pulled the weapon from the body. He notched it and loosed, satisfied as it rammed cleanly through an orc throat that had just raised for an attack.  
  
"Help him!" Legolas pointed, searching again for any arrows and finding none began to take his frustration out on the orc that came pouring over the wall from ladders and hooks. There was nothing he could do now unless he wanted to give up his position and die beside the Namek. His heart was torn between doing just that but his mind won over and he turned his back to the scene below him with a sob and began to hew through every enemy that dared near him.  
  
_{Oh and every time_

_ I'm close to you _

_There's too much I can't say _

_And you just walk away}_  
  
Goku and Vegeta were caught up in the swell of motion and flurry that is battle. It was never ending, and Goku could feel a crinkle of fatigue along his spine and growled that he was so weak when he was usually unstoppable. He roared, gripping a nearby throat and squeezed his hand until his fingers nearly touched only separated by a thin layer of skin before dropping it and grabbing another.  
  
There was a cry behind him that was mostly swallowed by the noise and Goku dared glance and saw Piccolo being charged by a large pack of beasts. With a grunt he turned back as a fist connected to his ribs. He was distracted no longer and barreled back in, forgetting time and place and only the rush of adrenaline. Another howl of pain was sucked into the void of noise and Goku didn't bother to look, he could still feel Piccolo's ki strong and pulsing as he fought and ignored it again.  
  
A moment later he stumbled as he felt a flicker in his mind and he turned, gaping as he saw a pile of orc squirming and flailing where his friend once stood. "PICCOLO!" Goku held his palm out, prepared to let loose a blast of energy and yowled in frustration as his ki bubbled in his skin but did nothing. The ki fluctuated, dropping dangerously and Goku felt his vision blur as a solid fist connected his temple. Whirling around he grabbed the surprised beast by his throat and lifted him feet from the ground and threw him half a dozen yards back into the flow of orc that never ended. Burgundy bled into his vision as a chorus of jeers welled behind him and Piccolo's ki dropped so low he couldn't feel it anymore.  
  
Goku spun on heel, prepared to fly into oozaru if he could only manage to when the sight of puddles of watery violet blood running down the small dip that poured between the orcs' feet made his head swim. Goku felt his knees threaten to buckle but Vegeta was beside him, shaking him hard.  
  
"Snap out of it Kakkarot! Forget it, there's still a battle to win." Vegeta's voice was growling and rough. Goku was prepared to smack him and instead jerked from the prince's grasp and barreled headlong into the surviving orc and beat them all into the muddy earth until they were nothing but lumps of bruised and bloody tissue. He heaved a layer of orc from atop the Namek and frowned sadly. Piccolo lay in a pool of his own blood, broken and gasping painfully for air. One swollen eye cracked open and peered up at Goku. Kneeling, Goku carefully picked up the fallen warrior, Piccolo gasping in pain as Goku dragged his body to a secluded spot.  
  
"Go Goku..." Piccolo was rasping, fighting to keep conscious. Goku hardened his face.  
  
"You'll make it through this."  
  
There was a snort and grimace from Piccolo. "Pl-please," his gravely voice condescending. A wheezing breath rolled in and out and for a moment Goku held his breath as Piccolo's chest didn't move. Then he let it out in relief as another shuddering breath was sucked in. "Go. They still need you." Piccolo frowned and raised his arm to point back at the war beyond them like he was scolding a child. Goku hesitated and Piccolo snarled. "Go."  
  
Goku nodded and dipped his head before taking off. He paused just before he joined with the others. "Don't you die here, Piccolo. Gohan will be mad at me." Goku frowned at him but his eyes were soft and pleading. Piccolo waved his hand at him wearily and felt a cold void swallow his mind.  
  
When Goku was back at Vegeta's side, the ouji looked up at him and then back to where he could barely see the Namek tucked in a small nook. He couldn't feel the Namek's ki.  
  
_{And I forgot _

_To tell you _

_I love you}  
_  
--Somewhere on the Rohorrim...  
  
Elladan and Elrohir sat closely together, sandwiching Mirai between them so that they all fit underneath the taut skin over their heads. Elladan smiled brightly at his brother and the clearly uncomfortable Trunks. Elrohir managed to smile back, but not quite as lively, and Trunks tried not to roll his eyes and somehow make himself smaller.  
  
There was a bout of boisterous laughter outside their make-shift tent and before long the dirtied –if not relatively genial—face of Éomer looked in at them, his thick blonde hair plastered to his head and rainwater dripping steadily from his curls. "And here I thought the men were jesting."  
  
He looked them each over thoroughly and Mirai could feel his temper flaring as the man simply stared at them for nearly fifteen minutes. Éomer nodded imperceptibly and backed out a bit. "Follow me."  
  
After throwing a cautious look between them, they moved from their makeshift shelter and followed the leader to a large tent halfway down the camp. Éomer sat heavily in a chair at the far side, waiting patiently as the trio shook water from themselves and took in their surroundings.  
  
"I apologize for my men. Had I known we had suitable company I would have made proper accommodation." Éomer motioned to several chairs with a wave of his hand. "Sit, please. We don't have much for feasting, but we have food if you are hungry."  
  
The twins nodded, the airs of nobility coming back to them. Trunks, however, was looking longingly at a loaf of bread that was still steaming and hot. He couldn't help it, he was a saiyajin male through and through. He sat, staring at it until Éomer grinned and set it directly in front of him. Blushing lightly, Mirai thanked him and tore a chunk before offering it to the others, who all refused.  
  
After a rather long silence, Éomer scratched at his stubbly chin and asked, "Why are you not with your fellow elves?"  
  
Taken aback and slightly confused, Elladan furrowed his brows. "The elves of Lorien have come and gone?"  
  
Éomer nodded. The twins looked at each other and from the intense looks on their faces began to calculate how they may have missed them. The silence dropped again and Trunks finished the loaf and sat calmly looking between them.  
  
In the distance, a startlingly familiar ki jumped and struggled. Mirai stood quickly, toppling his chair and faced the back of the tent with such an intense gaze he could have bore a hole through the material.  
  
Éomer, startled badly enough to stand and draw his sword, was watching the saiyajin with distant eyes. Before he could move beside the man the twins were suddenly there gripping at his wet jacket and talking quickly in elfish.  
  
Mirai pulled his sleeve from their hands and turned, stalking to the tent entrance before he was suddenly tackled to the sticky ground. Growling he turned his head and glared up at the face of Elladan who was holding down his shoulders. "Get off of me! I have to go!"  
  
Not willing to release him yet, Elladan shook his head. "What has happened?" When Trunks only growled in the mud, Elladan flexed his weight and frowned. "Trunks?"  
  
There was a hiss and suddenly the elves were toppled to the ground as Mirai stood under their weight. "It's happening! It's happening and I'm late!"  
  
This time, the saiyajin prince made it as far as three steps into the rain before he was knocked back to the earth again. Trunks yelled in frustration and anger. This time as he stood with mud dripping from his face he turned to find Éomer sneering at him. "I find you need to calm yourself before you get hurt."  
  
Mirai laughed hollowly and pushed his muck streaked hair from his face. "I don't have time for this." Ki in the distance danced and flickering; he rounded again, staring into the distance with his mouth hanging open. Before he could leap and fly off, a solid fist connected to his jaw.  
  
Trunks' head snapped to the side and he looked over at his attacker in surprise to find Éomer holding his hand and hissing pain through his teeth. Elladan and Elrohir had somehow finally gotten their bearings and now stood between them with sour looks. Realizing that he wasn't going to get far without at least explaining himself he grabbed the closest twin and pulled him to his chest.  
  
Elrohir's eyes widened as he was hauled forward and was shocked to silence at the panicked and lost look in Mirai's gaze. "Please..." Trunks cupped either side of the elf's face and rested his forehead against that of Elrohir. "They're dying."  
  
By now the majority of the camp was standing in the rain watching the exchange with varying degrees of wariness. Elrohir blinked and nodded as best he could still trapped between Mirai's hands. The small affirmation made Mirai sigh and grin as he pulled the elf even closer—if it were possible—and hugged him tightly.  
  
Elladan frowned lightly in jealousy at the display but quickly turned to Éomer and told the man that they were leaving. "I don't understand. What is going on? Who is dying?" Éomer called, frowning deeply.  
  
"Your uncle and the men of Rohan." A stranger's voice called out through the rain. Éomer spun on his heel, eyes flashing until his vision settled on the white robes of Gandalf.  
  
"Gandalf?" The man gazed at the glowing robes but chose to overlook them. "What are you saying?"  
  
The wizard strode forward on Shadowfax, his face set. "Sarumon is attacking Helm's Deep as we speak. Forget your animosity, you are needed."

A shocked murmur rippled across the men and Gandalf held up a gnarled hand. "There is a need for a number of trusted and noble men to ride on to Erkenbrand. Send word to the leaders there, we will need to gather all the allies we may for what lay beyond tonight."  
  
There was a pause before the whole camp began scrambling to gather what they needed and mounting their horses. The uproar spread like wildfire and within a quarter hour everyone was seated on their steeds and Éomer was spurring them to motion bound for Helm's Deep as fast as they could go.  
  
Mirai, meanwhile, was trying to school down his anxiety as he traveled with them, praying to this world's Gods that no one would be dead on his arrival.  
  
_{And the night's_

_ Too long _

_And cold here _

_Without you }  
_  
They were falling back; retreating into the depths of the fortress, the barricaded door busted into slivers and a good many fine men dead or dying on the watery fields of battle. Aragorn was calling to the remaining elves and Rohan men to fall back to the castle, slewing any beast that came within his reach.  
  
Legolas and Gimli were some of the remaining leading the others to the safety of the keep. Aragorn watched them coolly for a moment before scanning and calling again to a group of men fighting off several Urak-hai. From the corner of his eye, Aragorn saw Legolas drop to his knees in the runny mud and spared a glance to make sure he wasn't injured before skirting off to aid the men at the front.  
  
Gimli stood behind the elf, watching his back silently for him as Legolas fought control of his emotion at the sight of the broken body at their feet. It was a sad sight to see—the bloodied body of a strong warrior and a distraught elf—and Gimli was glad for the distraction of watching Aragorn fight off an orc.  
  
Legolas whimpered and cleared his throat. Tentatively reaching out, Legolas' hand hovered over the still body, Piccolo lain out on the earth like a disjointed doll. Clamping his eyes shut, Legolas curled his long fingers into a fist and bit his lip before relaxing and gazing down at him again. Carefully, as though afraid he would hurt the Namek, Legolas cupped one jade cheek in his palm and ran his thumb across the high cheekbone. Even in death you are more enthralling than all the elves of Lorien.  
  
The fall of feet behind him, and Legolas felt Gimli grip his shoulder. "Let's go, laddy, they're coming." Legolas heard but didn't move, lightly petting the face of the fallen warrior.  
  
Aragorn ran behind them and scowled as Gimli shrugged at Legolas' prone form. The ranger gripped the fair elf by the elbow and hauled him from the earth dragging him several feet toward the keep before releasing him as Legolas turned and moved on his own.  
  
Aragorn glanced over to his friend and his heart went out to him, the fair face stricken and so filled with sorrow he was sure he would weep if he looked at it a second longer. Instead, he turned away and led them to the king's inner chambers to plan their last stand.  
  
_{I grieve in my condition _

_For I cannot find the strength to say I need you so}_  
  
Goku and Vegeta stood with Théoden as the doors of the chamber swung open and closed with an echoing thump. Aragorn and Gimli strode forward with purpose, grim looks on their faces and wry thoughts winding through their heads. Behind them, Legolas followed. Goku frowned as he watched the normally noble and joyful elf look around him as though he was not sure where he was or how he had gotten there.  
  
Beside him, Vegeta grunted and Goku noticed that his gaze too lingered on the forlorn Mirkwood Prince. Their thoughts returned to the fight at hand only seconds later as Aragorn began to speak with conviction to the King, Théoden already looking defeated.  
  
"Ride with me now, one last battle. Let your men see their flag high in battle, and die with me in honor." Aragorn's eyes blazed and the more he spoke the more Théoden's resolve melted. Vegeta smirked at the familiar glint in the old man's eye as he gripped his sword and ordered for his horse.  
  
As they prepared, Goku rested his hand on Vegeta's shoulder, neither knowing what the outcome may be and both silently thinking about the Namek down in the courtyard. The deep echo of the King's horn blared across the fields and resonated deep in the keep. Goku watched each man around him and felt energized as they gathered their spirits. His eyes fell to Legolas, and the elf was smirking though his eyes were far away. Goku frowned, the twisted turn of emotion was making him uneasy and he vowed to watch after Legolas when he could.  
  
There was a stamping of hooves and a hoarse cry and they dove, driving themselves back into the throes. Blue-black blood painted the stone walls as they went past, swords glinting in the torchlight before they fell; arrows streaking by in a blur followed by a deep gurgling as they pierced thick hides and throats; and saiyajin fists and feet busting through bone with dry snaps. The end of all things nipping at their heels.  
  
_{oh and every time _

_I'm close to you _

_There's too much I can't say _

_And you just walk away}  
_  
The closer the riders of Rohan drew, the stronger Mirai's ki pushed at his skin. The saiyajin half-breed growled low in his chest as he kept it in check, the horse below him growing antsy and fearful at the rolling of power on its back.  
  
As they peaked the rise, the sun split through the clouds behind them and Trunks felt as though his mind detached from his body and floated along one of the sun's beams. Below them now, he could see great throngs of filthy beasts pressing themselves against a stone barrier and nearly cleaving each other as they tried to get at their enemy. "...Kami..." Trunks breathed. Elladan turned to him, his face grim and nodded at his exclamation even if the elf wasn't sure who he was speaking to.  
  
The closest orc turned as the sun hit their backs and their twisted faces gaped and hissed at the light and then marred to horror at the sight of hundreds of Rohan men on horseback barreling down on them. A legion turned and faced their new threat, bracing themselves and snarling in hate at the new wave of warriors.  
  
Trunks twitched and he peered into the distance, the great doors of Helm's Deep were splintered and sagging on their hinges but thundering through them were several horses and warriors howling in rage as they hacked away. And behind them running and heaving heavy bodies twenty and thirty feet into the distance were two very familiar looking forms. A giggle slipped from his lips and Trunks felt his energy surge. He turned frantically and caught Elladan's eye but before he could even point his destination the elf smiled widely at him and nodded.  
  
There was a collective gasp and rearing of several horses around the young saiyajin as he jumped to super and literally flew off toward his father. Elladan caught Elrohir's eye and licked his lips unconsciously, his twin laughed but silently agreed.  
  
Aragorn looked up as he heard a new roar in the distance and to his sheer delight and amazement he saw hundreds of men pouring over the crest of the far hill, the sun bright at their backs. Among the front he saw Gandalf and he smiled widely as he hacked into the hide of a nearby orc. Their support had arrived and by the Valar he felt as though they could win this.  
  
There was a shocked gasp from behind him, and Aragorn looked over to Gimli afraid that the dwarf was now falling lifeless to the ground. Instead the squat man was gazing up into the air with his mouth hanging open. By the time Aragorn turned his head to see, a blur of lilac passed by him and to his amazement the creature landed between the two saiyajins who were currently pummeling away at the pressing orc.  
  
"Goku!" The bundle of color called and the saiyajin turned with a wide grin only to cough harshly as the creature sprayed something into his face. There was a moment of panic that flushed through Aragorn, thinking that Sarumon had somehow possessed some creature and was now poisoning two of their greatest allies.  
  
Before he could turn his horse on the narrow bridge to help them, the lilac haired head turned and grasped Vegeta by the shoulder only to pull away like he was burned when the shorter saiyajin spun with a fist high. The ouji's eyes widened then narrowed as that something was sprayed into his face. Vegeta gasped for air, trying not to cough and succeeded well enough, only sputtering slightly before his scowl turned into a full blown sadistic smile.  
  
There was a deep yelling, the bass startling half of the nearest creatures, the call joined by another and Aragorn narrowed his eyes as he realized that the two saiyajin were the ones howling. The earth shuddered under his feet and stones began to rise in the air. He leapt from his horse, sword poised ready to strike down at the man still between them. As he swung, a blur of gold swarmed in his face and his blow was stuck high in the air as one large fist clutched at his blade.  
  
Goku was smiling brightly at him, his black eyes a strange shade of turquoise. "It's alright." He nodded over his shoulder and Aragorn saw Vegeta standing with arms crossed over his chest, his hair in an upsweep of gold and eyes the same unnerving shade of blue-green. The lilac man next to him was gazing down at him with awe and slight fear cautiously reaching out a hand but not quite touching Vegeta.  
  
"Dad, where's Piccolo?" Aragorn's mind reeled. This is Vegeta's son? The saiyajin prince pointed into the keep and mumbled something about an inner wall and a small nook. The demi-saiyajin took off through the wooden door, not bothering to explain himself to the many men he blurred past.  
  
Aragorn relaxed his shoulders as Goku let go of the sword and he looked between them, not understanding what was going on. Goku smiled at him, though those eyes still seemed hard as stone. "Let me show you something..."  
  
As the saiyajin passed him, Aragorn felt something brush his skin though the man was still a foot away. It was thick and heavy, nearly suffocating as it clung to him like a mist. He shivered despite the heat it gave off and unconsciously took several steps back when he felt like his skin would burn. Goku raised one hand and scanned the sea of creatures before him calmly. A small bulb of light built in his palm no larger than a plum and it spread suddenly, the core too bright to look into but the outer spreading harsh, glaring light on everything around them. Then it was loosed, and Aragorn watched in sickening fascination as it shot through nearly forty orc, the beasts standing still, stunned and for a moment all noise faded away. Hot air brushed past his face and Aragorn held his breath, afraid the heat could sear his lungs and suddenly all noise fell back with a crash and the orc pierced with light screamed so shrilly many around them fell to their knees clutching their ears.  
  
Goku sidestepped a little closer to Aragorn as Vegeta moved to his other side and for a moment blind panic spread through him and he felt the need to run far into the distance, cradle himself in a ball in a deep cave where the cold could suck this heat that wasn't quite heat away from him. Vegeta turned an eye to him and smirked oddly at him, as though he understood the fear of this power so high it could be tangible. Goku's eyes settled on him, a small trick of sympathy played along his features. Both saiyajins this time raised their palms to the orc around them and Aragorn watched transfixed as those that were in their path heaved at those around them to move from the aim. Goku moved one arm to touch Vegeta's shoulder, the skin of his arm barely brushing across Aragorn's face and the man sucked in a harsh breath, wanting to move away but afraid to. Vegeta looked up at his lover for a moment before focusing back on the orc. "Try not to destroy too much of the land Vegeta." There was a small snarl and a curt nod and the light of them burned brighter as they let loose blasts left and right.  
  
All too soon and not soon enough the orc around them were dead, all lay smoking in heaps or in craters. Aragorn still stood between the two saiyajin and when the golden light of them faded away and they stood looking around themselves as though nothing of importance had occurred, the ranger felt a smothering need to feel that unbearable heat and flux of energy again.  
  
His mind cleared as they stepped off and walked toward the keep where Vegeta's son still had yet to emerge, and Aragorn swayed lightly on his feet. A strong arm settled around his shoulders and he blinked over at the scruffy face of Éomer as the horse master looked him over. "Are you well, Aragorn? You look as though you are ill." Honey eyes squinted at him and for a moment the face remained expressionless until Aragorn breathed heavily and shook his head to clear the fuzz from his mind.  
  
"Yes...yes I am fine." The Ranger stepped away and paused to settle himself and looked with refreshed eyes around himself. The riders of Rohan stood milling about the bodies, some stabbing at them for extra measure, others gaping at the burned and charred wounds. Gandalf stood several feet to his left, pipe clenched tightly in his teeth and an odd smile playing on his lips.  
  
Legolas was soon at his side, frowning but otherwise unscathed, a few bruises and small scratches across his arms and neck. Aragorn tried to smile up at him and instead shook his head in wonderment before motioning them to follow and entered the keep.  
  
_{and I forgot _

_To tell you _

_I love you}_  
  
As the group moved back through the gates, Trunks was kneeling next to Piccolo's body fighting off a stave of tears and washes of rage that ate at him. I should have been here, I could have stopped this. Taking a deep breath, Trunks refused to berate what he was already too late to stop. Instead, he bent over the prone form and rested a hand on the slashed chest of the Namek and concentrated as hard as he could. There! Eyes opening wide, Trunks felt again and somewhere deep and glowing like a dying ember was a small pulse of ki. Realization struck him, and Mirai groped around in his pocket before coming out with the small vial and pump. Fingers numb, he rested his hand flat on Piccolo's chest again and was startled from his concentration as Goku rested a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"It's alright Trunks. He did what he could and saved a bunch of boys." Goku smiled softly down at him, eyes soft and leaking emotion.  
  
"But Goku, he isn't dead." Mirai grabbed the older saiyajin's hand and hauled him down to the earth next to him, grimacing as Goku's knee landed hard on Piccolo's wrist. He pressed Goku's palm to Piccolo's chest and stared hard at Goku's face, waiting for him to feel. There was a moment and Goku's face dropped, and he opened his mouth to speak when his eyes flew wide.  
  
"Let me do this Goku...I think he has a chance." Mirai's azure eyes were wide and pleading and Goku nodded, stepping back quickly.  
  
Not willing to waste any more time, Mirai built a small layer of ki in his hand and set it over Piccolo's heart. He closed his mind to everything around him and pushed the ki of his body around until it filtered and slowly moved down his arm in faint bluish light.  
  
There was a strangled cry from behind them but Mirai barely heard it, focusing as hard as he could on pushing his energy into his fallen friend, willing that ember to spark and absorb what he was offering. An arrow flew past his head, but he never felt it, even as the edge nicked his cheek and a well of crimson began to bead.  
  
Behind him, Goku had one arm wrapped around Legolas' chest, pinning the elf's arms to his sides. At their feet lay the elf's bow, another arrow half notched rested inside it. Legolas' eyes were wild with anger, watching as this stranger was pushing that glowing energy into Piccolo. Holding in a sob of frustration he struggled harder, loosing one arm in the process and reached out—for Piccolo or the man kneeling beside him the others could only guess—thrashing as hard as he could.  
  
Below his hand, Trunks was startled as his ki was slowly being pushed back, that damned barrier holding back the life energy he was willingly donating. With wild eyes he looked up and for the first time noticed the scathing look of fury aimed at him from a beautiful blonde elf. He ignored the spitting comments at him in elfish and reached toward his father with his free hand, the vial still cupped within it.  
  
"Dad, break this open!" Vegeta uncrossed his arms slowly, looking at him as though he'd lost his mind. "Please!" His voice came out strong and pleading, bordering on a wail. His father's eyes narrowed but he took the contraption from his sons hand and snapped the weak glass neck in half, several drops of green liquid condensing at the bottom.  
  
Mirai clutched at the vial as his father passed it back to him, cradling it for the life saving liquid it was. He never noticed as the elf stopped his struggle and instead watched him with softening eyes, never feeling the penetrating gaze of the others as they stared after him. Trunks set the vial edge on Piccolo's parted lips and tilted it until the precious drops slipped from the glass and dripped onto the Namek's tongue.  
  
_{and the night's _

_Too long _

_And cold here}_  
  
Precious moment slipped by and the energy in his palm was still held in check. Despair gripped him and he turned his teary eyes to look up at Goku and Vegeta, not caring that he looked weak in his father's eyes. They both looked back down at him, Goku frowning deeply, his arms loosened so much that the elf fell from his clutch and stumbled for a moment before regaining his balance. He took several quick steps to Trunks' side and stared down at Piccolo's face, not bothering to try and remove the Mirai from his spot.  
  
Then, as he began to withdraw, a trickle—so small it felt like nothing—was leaving from his fingertips. Eyes widened and Mirai swung his head around to gaze down at the Namek, pleading in his head that it wasn't a trick of his mind. Stronger now, a solid push and it absorbed as soon as it contacted the Namek's skin. He gasped, laughing hard and set his free hand on the other side of Piccolo's expanse of chest, feeling not only his pushing of ki but Piccolo's body sucking it up like a dry sponge.  
  
A shuddering gasp through dry and cracked lips and Mirai stopped the connection, intent on staring into Piccolo's face as the Namek struggled to breathe again. The elf fell solidly beside him and cupped Piccolo's face in long fingered hands. Mirai spared an odd glance to him before looking back at his friends drawn face. Another heavy breath and Mirai laughed again, burying his face in the scraps of Piccolo's tunic.  
  
A rasping rumble and Mirai raised his head, looking into Piccolo's confused and cloudy eyes. "Mirai...?" The voice rough and strained. The saiyajing nodded, carefully leaning over.  
  
"Piccolo, are you alright?"  
  
There was a grunt and rumble of a laugh that turned into a hard cough. Sweat beaded on the Namek's skin and he grinned. "I'll live."  
  
To the astonishment of the men and elves that gathered in a small group to watch, the wounds of Piccolo's body slowly began to heal right before their eyes. Piccolo raised a hand to his spinning head and sat up slowly. Before he even had time to balance his newfound equilibrium, a hard and warm body slammed him back to the ground. His ebony eyes widened and then if they could have, widened even more as Legolas clutched at him and pressed a bruising, flustered kiss to his lips.  
  
Everyone else gasped and soon looked away in embarrassment. Vegeta smirked and looked up at Goku, the taller saiyajin staring wide-eyed at the scene before Vegeta grasped his tattered tunic collar and hauled him down into a bruising kiss of his own.  
  
_{without you...}_


	19. Gimli's Plot

a/n: I leave for home in four days! O.o;  This is a new chapter, the next is half finished but I can't promise it will be up soon.  Know I'm not giving up on it, I'll just have to struggle to get out new chapters and it will probably be sporadic updates.

Thanks to ALL the reviewers!  You guys have made this more than worthwhile.  Special thanks to WuffieLuver for the monster sized review.  I'm glad you like the Elrond/Bulma pairing—not many have said much about it.  On with the chapter.

---

Saruman scowled into the darkness, if he weren't such a powerful and malevolent wizard one might say he was pouting.  Freeza was perched on a chair, Zarbon sitting on the floor by his feet—they both looked incredibly bored. 

"Isn't there something to do in this Kami-forsaken place?  Slaves to torture? Thieves to cut the hands off of?"  Zarbon drawled.

Saruman ignored him, back to the two, and mouthed Zarbon's words with a roll of his eyes.  "No.  We are waiting.  The battle is playing out as we speak."  There was a derisive snort and Saruman gripped the window sill tightly.

Freeza's feminine voice drifted in the room like a swarm of black flies—annoying and clinging.  "Now Zarbon, be a good boy.  You know that the _wizard_ is busy playing."

"I assure you, this is no play."  Saruman growled.  Wormtongue bustled into the entry, shuffling his feet and staring at the stones waiting to be acknowledged.  Saruman looked him over wearily, in no mood to be toyed with and walking a razors edge to insanity.  "What is it?"

"Sir, the ents…"  Grima started.

Saruman snorted.  "The ents?  What foolish tales have you been listening to?"

"But sire!"  Grima strode forward, mouth agape and holding his hands to Saruman in a beseeching gesture.  "The ents are coming.  I've seen them!"

Freeza and Zarbon shared a smug look while Saruman turned with a scowl.  The wizard raised his hand to strike at the interfering servant who would dare talk back to him when a great blaring cry came from the distance.  With some confusion, Saruman swirled back to face the window and leaned out to gaze into the horizon.  There along Isengard's borders marched the ents of old, strides as long as a horses run and they were coming on fast and angry.

Soon, great boulders rained from the skies with triumphant calls of 'hoom hoom' and the ents were rampaging across the expanse and pits of Isengard.  With a great cry of anger, Saruman whirled around and stalked through the room, Grima on his heels as the lord made his way through several smaller rooms and emerged on the balcony.

No words were spoken as Lord Saruman stood gaping at the scenes that played out before him.  Ents tore through what remained of his legions, squashing them under their great rooted feet or throwing them for quarter mile stretches; busting down wall and gate with far too much ease; even diverting the great rivers to drown out the deep fires and wash away the filth that he had taken so long to breed.

Freeza was chuckling behind him, Zarbon looking thoroughly amused with the situation.  Saruman pointed at the ents and a small gurgle of anger and annoyance curdled in his throat.  Freeza smiled without warmth.  "It looks as though you have an overgrown weed problem."

A smirk grew wider on Freeza's lips as Saruman spoke.  "You claim to be bored and that I am doing things wrong, then show me how _you_ would deal with this!"  The wizard pointed, irritated, out at the ents.

Zarbon searched his lord's face and smirked at what he read there.  Freeza shook his head.  "I don't see how this is my problem."  The Icejin slowly began to levitate from the floor, Zarbon following his lord's lead.

"What are you doing?"  Saruman balked.

"Leaving you to your play."  A sneer and barked laughter later, Saruman stared after the two aliens as they took off to the skies.

With a seriously confused countenance, Saruman turned to Grima, the servant watching the aliens leave off in awe.  Anger poured in then as Saruman glared at the man that was supposed to be groveling at his feet.  In a fit of rage fueled by insufferable aliens that played his allegiance, the hell and havoc caused by the great ents bound to destroy his fortress, and now with the half-scared half-idolizing look _his_ servant was supposed to be showing _him_; Saruman bellowed and swung his staff in a great arc.  The side of Grima's face split under the impact and the man howled with pain as he crumpled to the ground.  Saruman advanced on him again…

Outside of Isengard, the ents could hear the ceaseless tormented screaming from high in the tower.  It lasted nearly the entire length of their siege of the fortress.  And only when the waters stilled, the fires dampened and were put out, and the ents allowed themselves to stand and relax in the aftermath did they notice the screams had stopped and all that filtered from the high tower were harsh broken sobs.

---

It was cold floating around in his mind.  He could feel Kami there, supporting him blindly without body, and he felt oddly at ease.  The pain pulled away and all Piccolo could remember was being drug to the corner and slowly falling into himself.  _If this is hell, the humans have been sorely mistaken._  He grunted soundlessly, no voice or noise in this void.

And so he floated.  Aimlessly drifting in the spaces and gaps of his mind, not even really able to hold a cohesive thought no matter how hard he struggled to think of something, _anything_.  It could have been seconds, minutes, hours or days, it didn't matter here in this null were nothing existed except his floating bubble of self and the warm embrace of Kami that always seemed to elude him even though he could tell that it was only a little bit away.  And then, after that eternity that could have been nanoseconds, the pain returned.  Piccolo grit his non-teeth and the thoughts slowly came back and he pieced together syllables and thought _This, THIS is hell, _as his body screamed with shattered bones grinding; wounds pulled open and seeping, all the horror of his beating bleeding back into his jangling nerves.

A thick taste on his tongue, blood and stale air, and something else that was vaguely familiar in its bitterness.  And then a tortured breath and what had been horrible pain before felt dull and nothing compared to the screaming of his lungs and splintered ribs.  Kami and the Kai's but he hoped that he wasn't coming to life just to feel this pain and die again.  Heated hands, familiar in their strength and the power in them were pushing ki, blessed and merciful and beautiful in its intensity. He opened his barrier, felt it fall away in one solid chunk like a sheer of ice off an iceberg and the pain was forgotten as pure energy sucked deep into his bones and he could have kissed whoever it was that bled it all away.

A second breath, easier than the first and his floating mind settled back into his head, noises and ki signatures noted but not read and he knew he was alive even if it was so surreal.  And those damned hands were gone, blessed heat taken with them and the pain came back in throbs.  Piccolo opened his eyes slowly, dull evening light merciful to them and the looming head of lilac swayed in front of him.  He opened his mouth and croaked out what he hoped had been the boys name and failed at smirking as the boy beamed at him, nodding his head.  Mirai asking how he felt, and then he could feel the ki, his own, strong and steady and powerful.  The bones of his body were sliding slowly into place, his liquid muscles that allowed abnormal stretch and growth moving them painlessly to place where they healed and soldered back where they belonged, light itching and tingles along his whole body as everything mended.

A smile stretched his lips and he grinned up at the young demi and told him exactly what he knew to be true, "I'll live."

He could see others beyond the boy as he stood.  Goku seemed relieved and in his own way Vegeta appeared a little relieved too.  Piccolo resisted shaking his head at the look and sat up slowly, the whole world spinning wildly around him.  He had just made it, sitting properly up and was intent on sitting for a full minute until the world decided to stop playing around and stand still when a body hit his back to the earth.  His initial reaction was to stiffen and punch out, but he was still a little disoriented and soon grew very disoriented as said body gripped him and split his still healing lips back open with a forceful kiss.

Eyes widened in surprise and the scent of sandalwood and lightly turned earth clouded around him; he finally recognized the tumbling flaxen hair.  Piccolo's mind reeled with this bit of information but before he could get angry his hands had already found themselves tangled tightly in the silky locks and was pulling the elf closer.  A knee pressed into his still bruised gut and he gasped, pushing Legolas away with more force than necessary.

The elf rocketed backward, landing heavily on his elbows and tailbone.  Legolas sat there, surprised and staring at the equally surprised and shocked expression of the Namek.  Slowly, Legolas' shock slipped from his face into anger and embarrassment and he straightened himself as he stood glowering.  Sharp pain sliced back through Piccolo's stomach and he clutched it with a low growl.  _Definitely something vital bleeding in there._  He grit his teeth as he stood, bent over at the waist and straightened slowly with a small grimace on his face.

Legolas felt like slapping himself in the forehead like he had seen the humans do when they've done something foolish and gingerly touched his fingertips to Piccolo's arm that still curled around his middle.  "Forgive me, I was not thinking."

Piccolo raised an eye ridge at him, wondering exactly which part he was apologizing for.  He slowly released his stomach and prodded at the tissue and sighed mentally.  He shook his head and waved a hand in dismissal, "Forget it." Not noticing the almost hurt look in Legolas' eye as he was dismissed so easily.

Mirai miraculously appeared from somewhere to his right with a full water bladder in his hands.  He held it out to Piccolo and the Namek smiled gratefully at him before uncorking it and swallowing the entirety in three heavy draughts.  He took a great gasp of air as he finished and looked the demi-saiyajin squarely in the eye.  "Thank you."

Trunks' cheeks colored lightly.  "It's no big deal.  I'm just glad I made it in time."  He smiled shyly up at the Namek.  Piccolo grinned back at him a moment before looking around for more water.

Goku tossed him the one on his hip and Piccolo nodded his appreciation.  The tall saiyajin turned to Mirai with a curious look.  "Hey Trunks, how did you manage to get here anyway?"

The younger ran his fingers through his hair and thought for a moment.  "It's a strange story actually…"

---

Elladan and Elrohir stood beside the Mirkwood Prince as they listened in on the tale, quietly telling their friend parts of the story that they took part in, in Quenya.  They were awed at the Namek, having seen him at a glance and from a distance when the Fellowship had yet to leave Rivendell.  Standing near him was entirely a different experience and watching the nearly pained look that would flicker across Legolas' face now and then as he watched the green toned alien made them wonder what exactly had transpired over the several days they had been apart.

Trunks ended his tale, including why exactly his father and friends didn't have any energy and what he gave them that allowed them to have it now.  He looked expectantly around the others, noticing several faces he had not met that were hanging on his every word.  He turned his eyes back to Goku and Vegeta, shrugging one shoulder.  "What do we do now?" 

Gandalf stepped forward, an unusual twinkle in his eyes.  "We must head to Isengard.  There we must confront Saruman."  There was a low murmur throughout the troops within hearing range.  Gandalf didn't seem to notice.  Instead his gaze was steady on Aragorn and Théoden.  "The battle front may be won, but farther battle and the war are still yet to be."

Aragorn nodded his head in acquiescence, already making his way to gather his things and prepare for the journey to Isengard.  Théoden looked skeptically around himself, Gandalf reading the look of doubt on the king's face.  "Take a legion of men with you, the rest would do well to stay and treat the wounded and make reparations.  Others may go to Edoras, to prepare your house for your return."

Théoden stroked his chin and looked pointedly at his nephew, Éomer for his part looked his uncle in the eye levelly.  With a quick draw of breath and nod of his head, Théoden motioned for a horse.  Éomer, following his uncle's lead, split the troops into groups and set them on their ways, those that remained waiting patiently to follow their King wherever he would lead them.

With a satisfied look, Gandalf turned resolutely to the Saiyajins beside him.  "I would very much like to discuss the show of your power earlier."  Goku beamed and immediately agreed.  Gandalf nodded his head and whistled for Shadowfax. 

As those that would ride found a steed, Gandalf was surprised at a clearing throat and looked down at Piccolo, the Namek watching him with a curious look on his face.  "I need to discuss some things with you later."  Gandalf nodded and watched as the Namek returned to his friends without looking back.  The wizard tugged on the tip of his beard as he thought.

"We are prepared, Gandalf."  Aragorn called, riding up beside him.  "Gandalf?"

The Wizard blinked and smiled lightly, "Of course, Aragorn."  He turned a ways on the horses back and called loudly to the others.  "We ride."

---

Gimli sat perched behind Legolas as they traveled along to Isengard.  The elf had been oddly distracted and quiet.  He scratched at his beard, sighing deeply through his nose and peered around to find anything to break the uncomfortable silence.

Ahead were the leaders; Aragorn, Gandalf, Théoden and Éomer; all talking about this, that and the other.  Troops in small clusters, looking organized for all of their disorder followed behind them.  And above him flew three saiyajins and behind them and practically behind the entire procession of the riders flew the Namek.

Gimli grunted, terribly confused at what was happening between the members of the order.  One minute Legolas and Piccolo were so close he couldn't have blown pipe weed smoke between them, the next they were avoiding each other and gazing at the other with longing looks when they were sure the other was not looking.  But he had been and he had seen.  Looking up at the back of Legolas' head, Gimli nodded to himself.  He was going to push them together if that's what it took, and for some reason he knew that that was probably exactly what they needed.

Legolas looked over his shoulder and smirked at the deep look of thought on Gimli's features.  "What are you thinking, Gimli, that requires such a face?"

The dwarf looked up at him and an odd tinkle in his eye flashed in and out before Legolas could tell what it was.  "I was only thinking about the Namek."  A look of surprise quickly crossed the elf's face.  "It seems to me that he is in pain."

Gimli suppressed a grin as Legolas quickly looked up to spot the alien.  "What do you mean, Gimli?  He has no wounds, they've all been healed.  You saw it yourself with your own two eyes; or do dwarves have bad eyesight as well as bad looks?"  Legolas grinned at him and Gimli didn't bother to rise to the bait, he was too busy with other things at the moment.

"Oh, no, laddy.  I don't mean he has a physical hurt."  Gimli saw Legolas' lips turn down in thought and left it at that.  As the elf began to speak, the dwarf pointed into the distance.  "Is that not Fangorn forest?"

The elf looked and smiled, nodding his head.  Gimli let out a quiet sigh of relief and listened off and on as Legolas spoke of the trees.  They rode through the edges of the forest, trying to remain hidden from the sight of any of Sauron's forces as much as possible.  Gimli shrank in on himself as the old woods creaked and groaned so instead of thinking about the strange and eerie things that may live in the woods, he turned his mind inward and tried to think of what he could say to Piccolo.  The Namek would be far harder to push.

---

The flying aliens decided against soaring over the forest at Gandalf's request for being as inconspicuous as possible.  Instead, they walked somewhere in the middle of the procession talking amicably about the events that led them all here.  Or so Trunks and Goku spoke.  Vegeta grunted at points when he was asked his opinion and Piccolo threw in uncharacteristic comments about how beautiful and vibrant the scenery was.  Mirai nodded as the Namek spoke, understanding more than all of them just how magnificent the area was.

"I think I'll have to visit Lorièn before we leave."  Trunks smiled genially up at Piccolo.  "The trees in Rivendell were great, but from the sounds of it, Lorièn is better."

Piccolo nodded.  "It is."

For the most part, the riders beyond them kept a fair distance, not sure what to make of the new aliens after witnessing such a display of power; so it was a surprise to hear the sound of horse's feet draw near.  Piccolo looked over casually, and frowned thinking he had a concussion that hadn't healed properly and that he was seeing double.

Mirai smiled shyly at the new arrivals and Piccolo looked between them with a quirked eye ridge. 

"Elladan, Elrohir."  Mirai nodded to them and they both smiled and nodded back in return.

"We've come to see how you are fairing after all you have been through."  Elrohir spoke, stroking absentmindedly at the horse's mane below him.

Elladan smirked and winked at Trunks.  "Actually, my brother has been staring after you and has developed an odd obsession to have you fly him."

Piccolo smirked along with the elf and looked between them all, snorting at the deep blush on Mirai's face as well as the tinting on Elrohir's. 

"I assure you it is only curiosity."  Elrohir stated quietly.  He looked pointedly at his brother.  "If it would please you, Mirai, you are welcome to ride with me if you grow weary."

A sly grin wormed onto Trunks' face and Piccolo couldn't believe what he was hearing and mentally berated himself for hidden innuendo he kept getting from their words.  "That sounds great." 

To the surprise of both twins, Mirai leapt agilely behind Elrohir and wrapped his arms securely around the elf's stomach.  Elrohir stiffened before relaxing and beaming at his brother before riding off ahead.  Elladan scowled and took off after them shortly after.

Shaking his head, Piccolo turned to see Goku watching after the demi with a curious look.  The saiyajin opened his mouth to speak and Piccolo held up a hand.  "Forget it, Goku."

Goku scowled like a child that had its favorite cookie snatched away.  Vegeta snorted beside him and patted his arm.  Goku looked down at him and opened his mouth but Vegeta shook his head.  "It's nothing, Kakkarot."

This time the scowl returned with an indignant, 'hmph'. 

"The twins are making their intentions known to Vegeta's son."  A soft voice spoke behind them.  Goku turned and smiled gratefully up at the blonde elf atop his dapple-grey mare that rode silently behind them.  Legolas returned the smile and shook his head, silky hair flitting about his face.  An offended snort and grumbling came from behind him, and Gimli's face soon peaked out around to glare up at the elf.

"Watch what you are doing with all of that hair, elf.  I have a blade here and can easily take care of it for you."  Gimli brandished a dagger and waved it around just for show before putting it away again.

Gimli's eyes rested on the Namek—Piccolo none the wiser as he glanced at Legolas before determinately looking any where but the elf—and the dwarf felt a knowing smile tug at his lips.  He patted Legolas' thigh, "I am only jesting.  Surely the Namek would have my head if I dared touch it."

Legolas stiffened in front of him and Gimli waited for reaction as the elf turned his head to wait as well.  They were sorely disappointed if they were expecting a great flailing of limbs, snarls of anger and empty threats.  Instead Piccolo's shoulders stiffened and he closed his eyes for several seconds before relaxing and opening them again.

The form before him slumped slightly and Gimli sighed aloud.  No one noticed.


	20. Endearments and Distractions

a/n: wholly super long wait!  But good news and bad.  I have a computer now to work at my leisure, but I do not have ready access to the net.  Mainly being because my new comp is actually very old. lol  But, the main problem was writing, not posting so I'll make due and with the help of Apollo and every other available God that wouldn't mind, I won't have a break so long again.  And now a recap:

Battle of Helm's Deep is over, and now with powers finally released and everyone wholly intact, the broken Fellowship and riders of Rohan are heading to Isengard to reign in Saruman.  Now the warriors break for the night just outside of Isengard in the plains...

---

Dusk deepened, a smattering of cold stars glaring week light.  The clusters of men slowly broke apart most milling about and dragging their feet as though afraid to lay alone in the growing dark.  The same reluctance affected the mismatched group of the Fellowship.  Goku and Vegeta pulled away from the group several feet, Goku sprawled across the ground one arm draped across Vegeta's thighs; the saiyajin prince leaning against a rock with arms crossed over his chest, eyes darting about and daring anyone to make a crude remark at their position.

Gimli was frowning, pipe clenched in his teeth--no smoke curled from it though, his pipe weed all lost to Aragorn days ago.  He was frustrated to unimaginable proportions.  Legolas sat at the exact opposite of the Namek, he kept peeking up through his hair to gaze at the alien with an unreadable face.  Piccolo had his eyes closed, hovering three feet from the ground, Gimli only guessed he was 'meditating.'  Throwing his hands to the air, Gimli pocketed his pipe and flopped onto his side, giving into his body's craving for sleep hoping he'd have answers to push the two together at dawn's light.

As silence reigned, Trunks stood, rubbing feeling back into his legs while studiously ignoring the looks he was receiving.  Eyeing the forest edge and feeling the pressure of his bladder, Trunks stepped over the sprawled legs and sleeping bodies.  Nearly beyond everyone, a sudden root caught on his toe and the demi flailed for balance before gravity dumped him onto a hard lap.  Strong hands grabbed him before he fell further and Trunks looked up from his seat to see the semi-surprised and mildly amused face of Piccolo.

"You alright, kid?"  Piccolo's voice was low and rumbling.  Trunks nodded slowly, standing from the Namek's space and smiling sheepishly.  Piccolo stood along with him--three sets of jealous elfin eyes watched them carefully.

"Where are you going?"  Trunks paused outside the line of trees, watching Piccolo walk off.

Piccolo peered over his shoulder.  "Getting out of the line of fire."  He grinned as Trunks laughed.  "Just finding a tree and some peace."

As Trunks returned and settled down to sleep, an odd fog lifted from the north.  A small murmur moved through those still awake.  Trunks stared up into the sky with head pillowed in his hands.  As the fog rolled in deeper, not even the two warm and pliable bodies contoured to his sides could stave off the chill along his spine.

Men twitched in their sleep before coming awake in cold sweat.  The pinpoint light of the stars were blotted from the sky and campfires slowly drowned to bare flickers.  From somewhere near, Legolas woke and blinked into the haze of sky wondering what had broken his slumber.  As he lay contemplating giving up and sleeping, a low whimpering moan made him pause.  Cautiously he sat up and looked around the others.  Goku lay drooling on the earth next to Vegeta who looked regal even in his sleep.  Gimli was curled into a ball, his face pressed into the soil; beside him Trunks and the twins were twined together.  With a frown, Legolas rose to his knees, peering beyond the piddling flame of the fire and into the darkness.  Hovering under a mallorn tree with bullets of sweat dripping from his angular face, Piccolo sat panting.

Moving with the agility, grace and speed known only of the elves, Legolas found himself leaping across prone bodies low burning fires and piles of strewn equipment.  He fell to his knees in front of the Namek, resting his palms flat across the alien's thighs, his eyes wide and dilated as he stared up into a flushed green face.

"Piccolo?"  Legolas' voice was low and troubled.  The Namek flinched, but he didn't break from his stupor.  Legolas stood, checking to see if anyone was watching and cupped Piccolo's face in his long fingers.  "Wake up, Master Namek."  He held his breath.

There was a tick of a jade cheek, full lips pulled into a grimace and with a sharp exhale of breath, fathomless ebony eyes snapped open.  Piccolo gaped like a drowning make taking back his breath.  Legolas watched him closely, unconsciously stroking the Namek's cheek with his fingertips as he waited for his friend's eyes to focus.

As his breath slowed to normal, Piccolo came to his senses and the comforting stroke of a cool palm relaxed him more than he cared to admit.  "What are you doing?"  Calmed ebony eyes searched a pale face.

Strong fingers paused and Piccolo saw the uncertainty flicker across the elf's beautiful features.  The hand fell from his cheek and Piccolo captured his wrist to keep him from fleeing.  "Why are you over here?  I thought you were sleeping."  He spoke with his head lowered, antennae swaying across his face.

A light breath caught in Legolas' throat though his eyes betrayed nothing of the roiling in his stomach.  "Your rest was troubled."  Legolas felt his heart beat faster as time passed and Piccolo had yet to release his hand.  It was not the first contact he'd ever had with the Namek and exceedingly the most innocent, but something decidedly significant--especially after the stressful see-sawing they had been through.

A laviscious grin spread across Piccolo's face so suddenly Legolas felt at first a bit thrown before struggling not to return it.  "You worried about me?"  Piccolo's voice was bordering sarcasm.

Legolas ignored the tone of the comment and nodded, his face serious enough to make the smug look fall from Piccolo's face.  Emerald lips tipped into a light frown.  "You shouldn't."  Piccolo's voice was very quiet, his fingers tightening minimally around the elf's hand.

Legolas narrowed his brilliant eyes.  "You nearly died."  He was proud of his voice for not wavering.

The Namek's large hand tightened again.  "But I didn't."  Legolas couldn't hold the steely gaze of Piccolo.  It was true, Piccolo hadn't died but he had been very close to it.

"Here."  Piccolo held his free hand out to him and Legolas took it after little hesitation.  Piccolo closed his fingers around that hand as well and pulled the elf onto his lap with a quick tug.

Demanding his heart to quiet, Legolas stared wide-eyed up at Piccolo and tried not to fidget at the compromising position he was now in--hands trapped, straddling an alien a foot taller and half a back wider, not to mention hovering from the earth so that the tips of his boots barely scuffed the soil.

Piccolo cocked his head to the side, releasing one of the elf's hands to trail his fingers through Legolas' honey-wheat hair.  His large palm came to rest at the back of the elf's head and he pulled Legolas' ear to his chest.  Beyond the soft fabric of the tunic, warmth and marbleized muscles Legolas could hear the strong steady beat of the Namek's heart as well as the deep easy breath that filled his lungs.

"Trunks did far more than save my life.  He let loose all the power that I told you of."  Piccolo's voice was rumbling and even deeper with his ear pressed to his chest.  As he sat in silence for a moment, Legolas felt a wave of heat ripple along his skin.  It did not grow any hotter, but the strength rolled across in growing waves.  It felt how Legolas imagined leaves caught in an updraft must feel--powerless and fragile, yet oddly protected and comforted in the intensity.

Slowly the pulses diminished and Legolas wasn't aware he had been trembling until the hand in his hair moved to his back and held him tightly.  Quietly, Piccolo spoke into his hair.  "I'd show you more but I'd only wake Goku and Vegeta."  Legolas' eyes widened--that there could be more of that energy made his head swim.

With a shiver, Legolas burrowed into the Namek's chest--feeling Piccolo tense up a short moment before relaxing--and sighed as his hair was combed through again.  Turning his face up, Legolas stared openly into Piccolo's oddly passive face.  With one hand still clasped between them, Legolas raised his free hand and traced the outlines of Piccolo's face, smiling to himself as the Namek closed his eyes and grunted.

Thin fingers trailed down a cheekbone, finger pads catching on the outer edge of a full upper lip and traced to the corner before following the curve of a jade lower lip.  Tripped from a sharp chin and skirted along the Namek's jaw.

Legolas shifted backward to allow his hand easier access.  He paused with hand hovering, suddenly unsure of himself before he took a shallow breath and tickled his fingertips down a thick chorded neck and over a sharp collarbone.  Fingers waggled in the air over the pale pink of the Namek's shoulder before settling in a crease in the muscle and running skillfully along each ridge.

The texture of the skin was foreign, thick and leathery but soft and highly elastic.  Legolas watched his hand move back up the powerful arm and across the great expanse of chest before following its path with his lips and tongue.

Piccolo snapped from his dream-state as soon as petal-soft lips pressed against his neck.  A slow burn sparked in his stomach and when the tip of the elf's right ear ghosted past his face he latched lightly onto it with his teeth and curled his tongue along the edge.

Legolas stiffened and the hand still holding Piccolo's clutched tight enough to grind the bones together.  Satisfied with his reaction, Piccolo released his ear and nipped the tip before nuzzling the side of Legolas' face until he tilted his head back and Piccolo could nip and lave the pale column of the elf's neck.

A sound only described as a growl rumbled in Legolas' chest, Piccolo could feel the vibrations under his lips and answered with a deep rumble of his own.

It took less than ten minutes to pull at collar ties and loosen tunics before they were dumped to the ground.  It may have been easier had Legolas stood but neither were complaining at being pressed together and wriggling to free themselves of their vestments.

Piccolo gripped a handful of flaxen hair and wrenched Legolas' neck back, bruising their lips in a fevered kiss where an elfin tongue quickly drew submissive to the violet intruder.  Calloused hands pet and stroked at heated flesh.  A pause as Legolas laughed at Piccolo's lack of nipples until the Namek made him forget with a sharp grinding of his hips.

Actions grew more frenzied as heat flared and spread, Piccolo catching Legolas' hand as the elf began to prepare himself.  "No."

Legolas paused, eyes clouded with lust and flushed face marred with confusion.  Piccolo settled to the ground, pulling the elf atop him as he lay.  He cupped the beautiful face in his large hands and turned the elf's head so that he spoke into his ear, "I can heal in seconds and I don't think I can wait long enough for you."

There was recognition in the statement and Legolas nodded.  "And I don't want to hurt you."  The last spoken quietly, as though Piccolo were ashamed.

Crystalline eyes caught ebony and Legolas felt his heart swell at the admittion.  He threw himself across Piccolo's chest and kissed the Namek with all the passion and emotion in him.  When he broke free they both were panting.  He slowly teased his way down; licking, nipping and even biting hard enough to bruise on highly sensitive spots.  Piccolo grunted and growled his warnings; Legolas grinned at him before continuing on and stopped at the alien's arousal.

It was blatantly obvious that nothing about the towering Namek was small.

Knowing full well the size of the Namek would not sit at all comfortably in his jaws, Legolas settled for several languid licks and a light bite that earned him another warning growl.

By now, Piccolo was not the only with a weeping erection and crumbling resolve.  Legolas settled between Piccolo's thick thighs and groaned as the tip of his arousal pressed at the Namek's entrance.  He looked up through sweat soaked locks, uncomfortable with proceeding without preparation.  Piccolo smirked at him.

Clearing his mind--which was easy to do--Legolas pressed slowly in, arms shaking at the sheer bliss of heat and encasement.  After fully seated, Legolas kissed Piccolo's chest and dared rest on one arm to run his thumb across Piccolo's lips.  He was rewarded with a nip at his thumb and a rock of narrow hips.

He pulled out shakily, it had been some time since he had last laid with a man, and even then all those prior had not held his adoration like this Namek had.

The pace was fast and hard, both biting their tongues--often Legolas biting Piccolo--to keep from crying aloud for the hundreds of troops around them.  With a final slam, Legolas shuddered and spilled himself within his Namekien lover, Piccolo having released moments before.

They lay entangled until their breath returned to normal before Legolas hauled himself up Piccolo's length and rained feather-light kisses across his face.  Piccolo raked his fingers through the elf's damp hair and conjured on a fresh set of clothes for the both of them.  Legolas sat up slightly and looked down at himself.  Piccolo chuffed out a laugh and Legolas shook his head before resting again.

"I would you know."  Piccolo spoke softly into the night.

Puzzled, Legolas quirked an eyebrow.  "You would what?"

A crooked grin spread across Piccolo's face.  "I would kill Gimli if he cut your hair."  Legolas gave an exasperated snort but settled back in the Namek's embrace with a large smile.

The eerie fog moved on and away as they lay in comfortable silence.  Neither believing what had just transpired had truly happened even though the evidence was around them--torn tunics, broken ties and the teasing scent of sex.

The noise of many anxious men ruined their peaceful bubble of contentment.  Reluctantly, Legolas stood, gazing down on Piccolo with an unreadable expression.  The Namek stood as well, ignoring the twinge of his backside and rummaged through his ruined tunic for a water bladder.

Together, they noiselessly made their way back to their ring of friends.  Piccolo paused next to the demi-sandwich and snorted before following his elf--how odd and yet nice that sounded--to a clear spot beside the dying fire.

Piccolo tossed a hunk of wood from their pile into the embers and lit it with a burst of ki.  It had been some time since he had been able to do that as well.

Legolas sat lightly down beside him and settled close enough for their knees to touch before he lay back to sleep.  The others stirred and resettled, uneasy with the ambience of the atmosphere.

Piccolo drifted back to his meditative mind with the crackling of the fire; a slender hand crawled up his back before settling to the ground again with a fistful of tunic clutched in a tight grip.  Piccolo smirked, sending a small bubble of ki down the clinging hand and stopped when Legolas gasped and tightened his hold.  The elf curled around Piccolo's side, shifted and set his head on Piccolo's thigh.  Piccolo ran his fingers through long pale hair and meditated to the purring of the elf on his lap.

---

Bulma stepped out of Trunks' time machine, a stretch of parchment and charcoal stick clutched in one hand.  With a deep sigh, the scientist stretched and set her work on the tabletop.  She had denied herself rest for most of the day again.  The voices had stopped torturing her, but her imagination still ran wild.  She always had hated waiting for news from the front.

Elrond peeked his head through the door to make sure Bulma was fine--she had been almost eerily quiet the entire day.  He was relieved to see her sitting at a table sipping a glass of tea with a half-eaten plum in her opposite hand.  He was retreating when she looked up and smiled at him.

"Hi.  Come sit with me, I could use a break." Bulma beamed, sweeping off a chair for him.

Elrond returned her smile and shook his robes as he sat.  "How is your work coming along?"

Shrugging, Bulma flipped along the parchment.  "Better with something to follow."  She looked up at him again, a smudge of charcoal along her cheek.

"How is Arwen?"  Bulma looked up through her lashes.

Elrond furrowed his brows.  "She is well."

"No, I mean _how_ is she?"  Bulma arched a delicate eyebrow.  Arwen had not spoken to her for a couple of days and whenever she saw the beautiful noble lady her eyes were red rimmed and she was always distracted.

A soft sigh fell from Elrond's lips.  "She is upset.  Angry with me, angry with her brothers..."  He ran a long-fingered hand through his hair.  He looked up at Bulma waiting for her outburst but the azure vixen only blinked at him.  "She misses Estel terribly, but she does not see what I do."

Bulma set her drink down and leaned back in her chair, arms crossing over her chest.  Elrond watched as her face set into hard lines and had he been one of the many who knew the woman well, he would have made his excuses and left.  "And what do you see?"  Elrond opened his mouth to speak but Bulma cut him off.  "It surely couldn't be your daughter's happiness."

"I beg your pardon?"  The elfin Lord straightened in his chair.

"The way I see it, mister, is that you have empty nest syndrome.  You know Arwen wants to be with Aragorn, but you can't see her as an adult to make her own decisions."  Bulma narrowed her eyes dangerously.  "She loves him, Elrond."

"She only thinks she does."

A gasp was Elrond's early warning before Bulma stood and posed before him with hands on her hips.  "Now look here, mister!  You may think you know what's best for you daughter but you cannot tell her who to love!"  Bulma huffed, leaning over Elrond, her blue eyes blazing.  Elrond began to speak but Bulma covered his mouth with her hand.  When she spoke her voice was soft.  "You do not choose who to love.  It chooses for itself."

Elrond's smooth hands came up from his lap.  One took the lady's palm from his mouth, the other wiped the soot from her creamy cheek.  He nodded his head lightly.  "I know."

He stood from his chair and looked down at the blue haired woman.  Elrond closed his eyes and sighed as he released Bulma's hands.  Elrond got to the door before he turned back, his face set and Bulma smiled at him.  "I'll talk to her."

---

Dawn was still a quarter hour away and Trunks lay awake.  From the sounds around the rest of the camp many men were suffering from his insomnia; though the remainder were hardly doing more than snoozing in the uncomfortable atmosphere.

One of the twins at his side shivered before burrowing a little farther into his side.  As carefully as he could without disturbing either elves, Trunks snaked an arm out to his satchel and tugged his jacket free from the straps.

A light grumble came from Elrohir and Trunks froze until the Perenhil quieted.  He smiled at the top of the dark crown as he flopped the jacket open and spread it as well as he could around the three of them.

As he relaxed back against the ground, Trunks checked on the twins.  Both seemed to be eagerly warming beneath the violet stained leather.  A pair of grey eyes peeked from beneath raven locks.  Trunks blinked, unsure of whether Elrohir was actually gazing at him or still sleeping.  He got his answer a moment later when a smile--hidden by the collar of the jacket--crinkled the corners of Elrohir's twinkling grey eyes.

"You should be sleeping."  Trunks murmured.

Elrohir nodded, shuffling closer.  Trunks smiled secretly as the elf's arm curled tighter around his waist.  "The whole camp will be awake soon.  We'll be moving on by first light."

Elladan stirred and blinked.  "Time to go?"

Trunks turned his head and grinned.  "Not yet."

With a satisfied grunt, Elladan nestled back into his spot, burying his face in the crook of Trunks neck.  The demi felt his heart clench before beating a little faster.  Both twins seemed to feel his discomfort and grinned cheekily at each other.  As Trunks began to attempt to wriggle free of them, arms tightened their hold and pinned him to the earth between them.

"Someone is going to see--"

Elladan looked at him with innocent eyes, "See what, Ernil?  We are only huddling for warmth."

Elrohir picked up on his brother's trail of thought and nodded.  "Do you find our position compromising?"

Mirai frowned, trying to think of a reply that wouldn't sound rude or anger either twin.  He hadn't a chance to even try when a hand wound its way under his shirt.  With wide eyes, Trunks looked between the identical innocent faces and forced himself not to sputter.

"Is something the matter, Trunks?"  Elladan asked, head cocked slightly to the side.  Another hand soon followed the first and Mirai could feel the blush prickle his cheeks.

Elrohir blinked owlish eyes at him, "Yes, you seem a bit flushed."

One of the hands trailed slowly down, fingertips brushing against the waistband of his pants.  Mirai stiffened, prepared to either remove himself from the devious elves or completely submit.  A dark shadow fell across them and the hands quickly retreated to their owners.

"You have the worst timing foster brother."  Elladan pouted, rolling away from the trio and sitting up.

Aragorn grinned down at them.  "I only serve to ruin your fun.  What else are younger brothers for?"  Elladan rolled his eyes but smiled anyway.  Aragorn cocked an eyebrow and gave Trunks a once-over.  "I trust they have not molested you?"

Elrohir stretched and sat up as well, pouting.  "Had you kept to yourself a moment longer we may have had the chance."

Trunks flushed crimson, dumbfounded at the conversation he was hearing.  Aragorn shook his head, playing off his brother's comments.  "It is time to rise and make ready, we leave in a quarter hour."

Both twins nodded, already gathering up their things.  Trunks was the last to sit up, turning his jacket around and pulling it on properly.  He gazed up around in the slowly lightening sky, ignoring the hollow feeling in his stomach as he bit into a piece of lambas. 

He felt more than saw his father wake, Vegeta's ki rising quickly as consciousness came to him.  Trunk was fine enough to stay where he was until everyone moved, but a sound so rare and entirely surprising made him jump up and turn to the group behind him. 

Vegeta was laughing.


	21. Morning of Worry

a/n: A new installment. Please enjoy and thank you again for the helpful support and continued praise for this story.  You guys are all great.

---

Vegeta had been having odd dreams.  Dull voids where voices murmured and infuriated him as he struggled to hear them.  Flashes of Freeza's sneering face and mocking laughter knotted his stomach;  Radditz' solemn face loomed before him, mouth speaking softly but no voice came forth.  It was Radditz that affected him the most though he didn't understand why.  As the night moved on and the saiyajin's face returned at various points through his sleep Vegeta felt himself struggling to reach him.  He screamed, growled, threw his dream self toward the hairy saiyajin but he never managed to get nearer.

When he finally woke, Vegeta stiffened and gasped, staring wide eyed at his surroundings and slowly relaxed against the stone he rested on.  Goku stirred beside him and Vegeta stared at the back of his head, suppressing the overwhelming desire to move down beside the third class and curl up into his side.  He hated feeling so needy, but he'd be damned if the odd dreams hadn't twisted up his insides into a mangled emotional mess.

He sighed lightly in comfort when Goku rolled onto his side and nestled up against him.  It saved him his dignity and pride.  When he looked up again, Aragorn was making his rounds shaking and prodding sleeping people to wake them.  The ranger paused beside his son with the twin elves and narrowed his eyes as pieces of the conversation they were having floated to him.  When Trunks sat up Vegeta tamped on the protective anger bubbling and shook his head.

Across from him, Piccolo floated three feet from the earth, chin to his chest and meditating.  He looked far more relaxed than he had for their entire stay on Middle Earth.  Vegeta cocked an eyebrow in wonder.

Aragorn had neared and nodded his greeting to Vegeta when he noticed the prince was already awake.  He stopped several feet to Vegeta's right, Legolas exiting the trees behind them smiled brightly and stepped forward, speaking quiet quenya to the ranger.  Vegeta ignored them, not able to understand what they spoke anyway.  Goku stirred, arm tightening at Vegeta's waist and the prince smirked at him.  A scent wafted to him, tickling his nose and Vegeta chuffed, annoyed and intrigued at the same time.

He turned his head toward the source of the smell and breathed deeply, the scent dancing on his tongue and sparking memory banks in his brain.  Vegeta paused in the next breath and stared openly at Legolas for several long minutes then turned his head and stared at Piccolo.  A wide grin split Vegeta's face and he looked between the elf and Namek several more times.  Mirth built in his stomach and before he had a chance to school his features and cement his control he began to laugh.  Loud, barking laughter that made his sides ache, shook Goku awake and garnered him the attention of most of the warrior groups around them.

With tears rolling down his cheeks, Vegeta smirked at the surprised and annoyed looks from Piccolo as the Namek stood in confusion.  Goku sat up, rubbing an eye with the heel of his hand.  "What's so funny, 'Geta?"

Around them, dozens of men were intrigued for the same reasons.  Vegeta grinned widely at Piccolo, raising an eyebrow slowly.  The Namek narrowed his eyes, frowning deeply at whatever point Vegeta was trying to make.  The saiyajin prince quickly darted his eyes toward the elf and looked pointedly at Piccolo again.  Slowly, Piccolo's eye ridges rose in dawning before the shutters closed over his emotions and his blank mask fell into place.

Goku looked between the two of them, confused at their internal dialog yet again.  "'Geta?"

Vegeta shook his head.  "Nothing, Kakkarot." 

Goku scratched his head, it was far too early after waking up to play mind games with the prince.  He looked to Piccolo for answers, but Piccolo was looking down at his knees, a purple blush across the bridge of his thin nose.

Piccolo looked up, scowling ferociously at Vegeta over his blush.  "Shut up, Vegeta."

The saiyajin prince grinned and stood, stretching like a happy cat in a beam of light.  "I haven't said a word, Namek."  He turned to Goku, offering the younger a hand up.  "Come on, Kakkarot.  We'll be moving on soon enough."

Goku pouted cutely and followed after Vegeta, casting a final backward glance to Piccolo in hopes of an answer.

Slowly the whole mass of men woke and gathered their belongings.  Piccolo lounged by a mallorn, leaning against the large tree and scowling as hard as he could manage--without setting off his eye lasers--at the back of Vegeta's head.  A blonde head soon popped out of the foliage beside him, Legolas hanging upside down from the lower limbs.

"What's the matter, _vanesse_?"  Legolas turned his head, blinking at Piccolo.

Piccolo grunted, still glaring at Vegeta from a distance.  Legolas frowned and released his hand hold on the limb, only hanging on by his legs.  With one hand he pulled his hair from his face, the other he rested on Piccolo's shoulder.  Piccolo looked at the pale fingers curled on his deltoid and then glanced at the elf's stricken face.  "You regret what has happened."

Eyes wide, Piccolo turned to deny but Legolas was already moving back up into the canopy of the trees.  "Legolas!"  Piccolo called up to him, but he got no answer.  Limbs a near dozen feet above him rustled and Piccolo took to the air.

He hovered near the tops and pushed through the tree limbs. He saw Legolas standing on a branch two trees to the right of the one he had been hanging from and flew gently over.  Floating in place, Piccolo drifted until he was directly in front of Legolas.  The elf was looking at him with head cocked to the side.  Nothing betrayed the emotion in him, not even the clear and brilliant eyes that normally showed books of feeling.

"I never said that I regretted anything."  Piccolo spoke quietly, intent on getting his point across without growing impatient and showing that he meant all he said.

Legolas didn't reply.  He blinked calmly at Piccolo waiting for him to continue.

Piccolo fumbled for words in his mind, face set in frowning lines.  When he looked up again, Legolas had moved on to another tree and he followed.  This time he grasped hold of the elf by the elbow and spoke in a firmer voice.  "I have to return to my world; I might die; you could; any number of things I would prefer not to think about until the time comes.  But I regret nothing."

Legolas paused, prepared to speak.  Piccolo hovered closer.  "Nothing."  A slow smile spread across the elf's aristocratic features and Piccolo grunted, smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. 

"Do you remember what the twin sons of Elrond spoke yesterday?"  Legolas tilted his head and looked down through the limbs to the ground far below them.  Piccolo frowned, eye ridges knit as he thought back.  "To fly."  Legolas pressed.

Dawning spread on Piccolo's face and he grinned.  He held a hand out to Legolas and as soon as the elf's hand was in his he hauled the smaller frame to his chest and blasted up through the canopy of trees into the open sky. 

Legolas clung on for dear life, staring openly at the scenery around them in quiet awe.  Piccolo hovered, letting him adjust to the sights and feeling of open air.  Legolas smiled widely at him, a look of pure ecstasy on his face.  "Amazing."

Below them, three sets of saiyajin eyes watched--one in near ecstatic amusement.  The troops gathered and Aragorn rode to the small band to gather them.  From their height, Piccolo and Legolas realized it was time to move.  With reluctance, Piccolo flew slowly back to the earth, enjoying the tight fists entangled in his tunic when he lurched up to land on his feet.

Trunks raised a questioning eyebrow and smiled shyly at them.  Not sure exactly what was going on but having a rather good idea.  Elladan and Elrohir smiled brightly at their elfin friend as Legolas stepped away and smoothed his tunic.

"How was it?"  Elladan beamed, eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Amazing."  Legolas spoke truthfully--brilliant eyes turned to the skies.

A sly grin spread across the dark elf's features, "I could have guessed.  He is rather large."  Elladan laughed as Legolas' head whipped around.

"That is an unfair game, son of Elrond."  Legolas narrowed his eyes and Elladan dipped his head in respect, fearing he'd gone too far.  "At least I do not have to share my conquest with my brothers."

It was Legolas' turn to laugh as Elladan gaped at him and flushed pink.  Beside them, both Piccolo and Trunks looked at each other and then the elves, a bead of sweat rolling down their faces.

They were saved further embarrassment as Gandalf rode foreword on Shadowfax, peering between them.  He motioned for Piccolo and the Namek schooled his features before walking along side the aged wizard.

Slowly the procession of men followed them and still with a bit of distance between them, Piccolo and Gandalf began to speak of visions.  "You told me early last evening that you needed to speak to me."  Gandalf looked questioningly at Piccolo.  Piccolo nodded once, sharply.  "Then speak."

A thoughtful silence fell as Piccolo sorted through the collage of dreams.  "One of the Hobbits, maybe two.  I heard them screaming but couldn't see.  There was a lot of smoke and heat."  He looked up at the intrigued face of Gandalf.  "And the smell of burning flesh."

The white wizard paled slightly, thrown by the last statement.  After a minute of hard thinking on Gandalf's part, he motioned for Piccolo to continue.  "A lot of them were filled with orc.  Just faces or weapons.  Nothing that stuck out, just battle scenes.  And the largest dark rider I've scene."  His voice had dropped an octave as his ebony eyes scoured the skies, as though he expected the thing to be waiting for them.

Gandalf nodded his grey head, absently petting the mane of the horse beneath him.  "That I have already expected.  Your visions have only cemented the fact."

Piccolo began to speak again but hesitated.  Gandalf raised a thick eyebrow. "What is it?"

"The last one.  It bothers me more than the others."  Piccolo wouldn't look up at the wizard, only stared straight ahead.  "It's Goku.  Screaming, bleeding."  A sour smirk twisted onto Piccolo's face.  "He's a strong warrior, I know that.  He's died so many times before and still come back.  But that's in our world.  If he dies here..."  Piccolo looked over his shoulder at the saiyajin.  Goku was walking with Vegeta, smiling and laughing; stealing innocent touches that Vegeta couldn't quite hide that he enjoyed.

"He has a family in our world.  They've been without him more than he was there, but at least he always found a way to return."  Piccolo's voice was strong, angry.  He looked back at Goku again, his face stricken and voice much softer than before.  "We might not see him again, not even in otherworld."

Gandalf peered sadly down at the Namek, at a loss for words of comfort.  Instead, he pressed on.  "Thank you, Master Namek.  If I find any answers, I'll be sure to speak to you." 

Piccolo grunted, his mind no longer on the conversation at hand.  He stopped in his tracks, waiting for the groups to move beyond him so that he could walk with his friends.  Aragorn rode past him, the ranger's smiling face falling to confusion at the closed off expression on Piccolo's face.  Legolas and Gimli following closely slowed their mare and the fair elf frowned at the lost and empty look in Piccolo's eyes.  Gimli pointed to Gandalf and Aragorn ahead of them and Legolas regretfully moved on, sparing a parting glance to the oblivious Piccolo.

The sound of Trunks' laughter and the matching peal of light silvery giggles passed him as the demi and twin elves moved past him.  Piccolo began to walk again, just a little behind Goku and Vegeta.

Goku turned his head and smiled happily at Piccolo.  There was no response from the Namek even though his dark eyes were boring into the third class's back.  "Piccolo?  Are you okay?"

Blinking, Piccolo looked up into Goku's worried eyes and bit back a snarl of frustration.  "I'm fine, Goku."  The saiyajin cocked his head to the side before accepting Piccolo's answer and turning back around to talk to Vegeta.  Piccolo watched his longtime friend for a moment longer before speaking softly to himself.  "Just fine."

---

Lord Elrond walked through the halls, the sound of his daughter's weeping still playing heavily through his mind.  He rubbed at his temples and closed his eyes, sighing heavily.  Arwen had been less than happy to hear what he had to say, and saw it more than fitting to speak to him every bit that was in her heart.  It hurt him, badly, to see the pain his child was going through.

As he neared his study, he hardly noticed the door ajar until he was standing just outside of it.  Two familiar voices were talking softly inside. Pausing and frowning at others in what he considered his private space, he listened from the hallway.

"..._marta indo_.  It is in my destiny to love him, no matter how long the Valor lets him stay by my side."

Elrond's eyes narrowed.  Arwen was sitting in his chambers, speaking to someone who he had yet to recognize.  The voice of his daughter soft and melancholy.

"If that's the way it's supposed to be, then no one can change it." Another feminine voice responded.  It was Bulma.  Elrond didn't need to open the door to visualize the blue haired vixen perched in the soft-cushioned oak chair, holding his daughter's hand with a determined look on her face.

The only problem he had with the two speaking in private, was that both of them were against him when the matters turned to Aragorn. Instead of growing angry and stalking into the room, Lord Elrond took a cleansing breath and turned toward the outer gardens.

Meanwhile, in his cozy quarters, Arwen was perched, tense on the end of a day bed by opened bay windows.  Bulma sat beside her, a little more relaxed on the plush cushions, palm covering one of Arwen's slim hands.

"I think you should try to see it from your father's side too."  Bulma spoke slowly, waiting for the outburst she knew would follow her statement.

Arwen sighed deeply and only rose one arched eyebrow.  Bulma saw the family resemblance.  "I have two kids of my own you know.  You've seen Trunks.  He's had to fight to stay alive since he was twelve.  That's no life for a child."  Arwen nodded her head, eyes slowly drying of their tears as Bulma continued. The change of conversation serving as a good distraction of her remorse. 

"In the past he'd chase after his father, hands balled into fists, ready to prove himself."  Bulma laughed at the memory and squeezed Arwen's hand.  "Every time he'd leave my stomach would knot into tight little balls.  I'd do everything short of counting the minutes down until he came home."

Bulma looked pointedly at Arwen, the beautiful elf had reluctant dawning on her face.  "Your father isn't trying to be controlling.  Where you see your life and excitement, he sees you drifting away."

It was quiet and both women gazed over their shoulders out of the high window.  Arwen coughed lightly and squeezed Bulma's hand as she stood.  "I believe I have some thinking to do."  Arwen smiled. Bumla nodded, returning the smile and following Arwen from the study.

With a great stretch, Bulma watched the lady enter the library at the end of the corridor and turned her self around.  She felt better now, finally talking to Arwen and hopefully helping both Arwen and Elrond in the process.  Now, however, it was time for her to return to the shed and poke around the time machines again.  Progress was moving swiftly now that the parts were reorganized.

It was shaping up to be a beautiful day.  A cloudless sky and light breeze were setting the atmosphere for a really pleasant afternoon.  On the breeze the smell of many blossoms blew by and Bulma turned her face into the wind and breathed deeply.  She let out the breath in a contented sigh and was startled at the intense gaze of Lord Elrond boring into her.

"Good morning."  Bulma tried to smile at him, but the lord's face didn't change and she felt her nerve slipping along with her smile.

Lord Elrond stood slowly, taking smooth long strides until he was standing in front of Bulma.  "Did you have a pleasant chat with my daughter?"

Bulma narrowed her eyes, feeling tension settle between them.  Her hackles rose in response, ready to give as well as she got.  "Yes, I spoke to Arwen."

"Did she go to you, or did you seek her out?"  Elrond frowned deeply.

"I heard her crying and found her."  Bulma crossed her arms over her chest.

Elrond snorted. "And I trust you have undermined my authority yet again." 

Blood colored Elrond's cheeks and Bulma had to take a deep breath to settle her anger.  "I'll have you know Mr. Smarty-pants that I tried to make Arwen see where you're coming from."

Elrond blinked in surprise.  "To see where I am coming from?"

"Yea."  Bulma's voice quieted as she felt the anger melt from the elfin lord.  "I told her about how hard it is to watch your children doing things that puts them in danger.  The only difference between you and me is that I've had to live with watching my children go no matter how much I pleaded."  Bulma graced him with a small smile.  "But I guess you'll know about that soon.  Won't you?"

A knowing look softened Bulma's face, Elrond was struggling to let his daughter go.  She could see it.  The elf released a pained sigh and Bulma pulled him into a tight hug.  Elrond stiffened in surprise, the smell of roses in Bulma's hair helping to relax him and he returned her affection.

Bulma released him and smiled genially up at him.  She stood on tip toe and kissed the lord's cheek, turned on her heel and entered the shed to return to her work.

Elrond watched her go, his cheek tingling and he smiled lightly at her retreating back.  The woman had a way of getting under his skin, the Valor knew why, and he wasn't sure whether he cared if he knew or not anymore.

---

_vanesse _= beauty;

_marta indo_ = fated heart


	22. Reunited

a/n: I'm horrible I know.. this is shorter than my usual posts. But by gods I'm trying.

----

It was midmorning as the Riders of Rohan made it to Isengard. The fields before them were soggy. Slick oily puddles and ash coated ground spread for miles. Men stood in awe at the wreckage around them, who could have come and destroyed the area so thoroughly and disappeared without being seen?

The broken Fellowship led the pack, and the closer they came to Isengard's gates, the larger two dots on the outer wall appeared. At the same moment Legolas' elf eyes sharpened on them, Piccolo's sensitive ears heard a familiar lilt in the voices that came from them. Legolas smiled secretly and Piccolo shook his head. It would seem friends were reuniting. Legolas took it as a good sign, but as the voices grew louder Piccolo could feel himself suffocating on imaginary smoke.

Five minutes later, Goku's eyes lit up and he grinned widely at Vegeta. "Hey! They're okay!"

Merry and Pippin were swinging their feet off the edge of the broken wall, pipe weed smoke curling around their heads in waivery halos. Gimli barked out laughter, torn between knocking the Halflings from the wall and hugging them or shooting them from it and yelling obscenities about how much stress they'd put on his heart. When they drew close enough he settled for a manly intermediate and slapped them on the back, grinned widely and threatened their lives if they ever decided to pull a stunt like it again.

"Well, Peregrin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck, here we are coming from battle and weary to find you feasting and smoking to your hearts' content. Have you no greeting for those who have slaved to retrieve you?" Gandalf cocked a bushy eyebrow, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Pippin stood, taking the pipe from his teeth and tipped his curly head. "Have you no eyes in your heads that are worth using? The remains of battle lay all around you with two hearty warriors enjoying their conquests and all you can think are we are lazing about."

Aragorn shook his head and laughed out loud, the smile on his face rare and welcome. Merry and Pippin smiled brightly back at him. "If it isn't Strider returned to us!" Cried Merry.

The ranger nodded, "We have chased you across the plains, and it warms my heart to see you have changed little save for height."

The Hobbits smiled wider still if it were possible, squaring their narrow shoulders. They had indeed grown several inches. Gandalf raised a hand to still the conversation. "As much as I am enjoying this conversation, where is Treebeard?"

Merry nodded his head, "Oh yes, he's down the bend in the river. He asked us to tell you meet him there. He's having a drink in the clean waters."

Gandalf nodded. "Very well. Do not stray far, we still have business to care for here." And he raised his eyes to the Orthanc of Isengard's tower before he rode, King Théoden and his men following in suit.

Those of the Fellowship stayed behind, looking at each other quietly. Merry and Pippin watched Goku and Vegeta carefully before glancing at each other. Something had changed while they had been away. The two saiyajins were abnormally close for warriors, even a little too close for just good friends.

"Come," Aragorn motioned with his hand. "Show us where you've found your bounty--"

"And your pipe weed." Gimli interrupted. The others looked at him and he shifted, shrugging his shoulders.

Aragorn snorted. "And your pipe weed, then tell us all that you have been through and we will tell you our tale in turn."

The Hobbits nodded, hopping from the wall and began to walk their way carefully to a muddled entrance with stone and wood sagging and split surrounding it. "Be wary of where you step." Merry told them. He pointed to the cracked slate under their feet. "They're likely to topple you right into the nasty waters and trap you underneath."

No sooner had the words been spoken when a cry came from the back of their pack and they turned to see who had been taken by the stones. A face the Hobbits did not recognize was swaying on a stone, two identical slender elves on either side of him holding out their arms to catch hold of him if need be. With a shudder and sucking sound the stone began to sink under the man's feet and Pippin gripped Merry's shoulder.

Before the man's pointed boots touched the water, however, he stopped sinking and seemed to stand on the surface. Merry's eyes grew wide and he looked at his cousin who was also doing a very good impression of an owl. Another stone split with a sharp crack and the elf to the man's left tipped precariously, bending so much the tips of his ebony hair trailed the oily water.

Faster than the two could see, the man's hand shot forward and snagged hold of the elf's arm, hauling the taller being to his chest. Without thought, he scooped the other to him as well and hovered there as the stones beneath them sucked down into the depths of water.

Aragorn began to step back to them, but one of the elves held out a hand quickly before burying it tightly into the man's collar again. "_Tulunka_, Estel." The beauty looked down at his feet and up again at the ranger, a shaky smile on his face. "I believe we are fine."

Strider nodded and side-stepped, giving the three of them room to settle on the stone beside him. Aragorn turned back around, faces varying from amused to relieved were watching him. He motioned the door with his hand. "Let us continue before more ill will befalls us."

With careful steps and slow pace they finally found themselves in a small room with a long table and several abused chairs. Merry and Pippin showed them to their seats and disappeared into a cupboard to the side and returned carrying portions of salted meats and mugs of port. "I'm afraid there isn't much variety but there is quite a stock in the hold." Pippin smiled cheerily at them, laying platters before them.

Gimli snorted, grabbing a slab of meat from the tray. "Anything would be better than eating lambas and meager war rations." He looked up to the amused faces of three elves and cleared his throat. "I mean no offense, it is well fare for an elf, but I am in need of something more substantial."

The others laughed and Gimli huffed before taking a large bite of beef. Merry and Pippin sat down at the end of the table, smiling warmly at the friends they had missed and the new faces they had yet to meet. Piccolo sat directly on Merry's right, sipping at a mug of strong ale with a grimace on his face. The small Hobbit sympathized and patted the alien's large forearm. "I'm afraid there is no clean water on this end. Though I'm sure we can find you some before we leave."

Piccolo's lips tipped into a light smirk. "Thank you."

Legolas, seated next to the Namek, looked over at them from his conversation with Aragorn. "You are out of water?" Piccolo took another sip of ale and shuddered. The fair elf sighed with a small smile and took the water bladder from his side and set it on the table before him.

Merry elbowed Pippin cautiously under the table trying not to draw attention. The son of a Took yelped in surprise but quickly composed himself at his cousin's harsh glare. When the others finally picked up on their conversations and turned from the two, Pippin gave Merry a confused look.

The darker hobbit tilted his head toward Piccolo and Legolas, raising one of his eyebrows. Pippin narrowed his bright eyes and tried to see whatever it was that his cousin had. After a long moment he shrugged. Merry rolled his eyes and leaned over to whisper in Pippin's ear. "Something's happened since we've been gone Pip. Just look at them."

Pippin gave his cousin a queer look but watched again. Piccolo sat with the water bladder now curled in his large fist. He wasn't speaking with anyone, only seemed to be listening to pieces of conversation and wearily looking around the room. Legolas was bickering with Gimli, jibing the dwarf and laughing as insults were thrown back at him. The elf flicked his head, flaxen hair flipping from his shoulder draped delicately across Piccolo's forearm. Pippin looked back at his cousin as though he had gone crazy.

Merry poked him in the ribs and whispered harshly. "Look!"

Piccolo was picking the hair carefully from his arm, the ends of the locks running through his fingers. Pippin and Merry looked quickly at each other and back again. As soon as the last of his hair fell from Piccolo's palms, Legolas would flick it again, sending another layer across the Namek's arm. A smile twitched at Piccolo's lips but never fully formed as he let the fine hair play across his hands over and over.

Merry smirked triumphantly and mouthed 'I told you so' at Pippin. Before a small Hobbit-ish brawl could break out between the two, Aragorn called to them from the opposite end of the table.

"Now that we've feasted, I think you should be introduced to those here you have yet to meet--"

"Along with a good smoke!" Gimli added.

Aragorn laughed. "And some pipe weed if you could."

The Hobbits bowed and happily brought out enough tobacco to fill those pouches that needed to be. "Shall we sit out in the open air?" Legolas asked, standing from his chair. "It would give those who do not 'enjoy' the smoke something far more pleasing."

Nods and choruses of agreement followed and carefully across the stones again, the group found themselves sitting on a small hill overlooking the watery fields and broken walls. Smoke curled from four pipes and an appreciative groan rolled from Gimli as the dwarf lay back against the hill and blew a puff of blue smoke from his lungs.

"You have seen my foster brothers in passing." Aragorn pointed at the twin elves set away from them with his pipe. The Hobbits nodded.

"We have, though I thought I was seeing things when one passed me and I saw him again not a moment later feasting on plums in the hall." Pippin grinned, smoke spilling from his lips.

Elladan and Elrohir smiled, remembering just that same encounter.

Aragorn nodded toward Mirai. "The man there between them is Vegeta's son, Trunks."

Merry scratched his chin, "He's got a queer look about him doesn't he?"

Mirai's head snapped up, embarrassment and anger coloring his face. Elladan smiled brightly, combing lilac hair from the saiyajins face. "I happen to like the odd color." Elrohir nodded, grinning widely, opposite his brother.

"It suits him well." Elrohir added, smiling in a slow secret way that made the color on Mirai's cheeks have nothing to do with his earlier anger.

The Hobbits laughed, offering the demi a smoke. Trunks refused politely and Aragorn cleared his throat to gain the small ones attentions again. "Perhaps now is a good time to tell us what you have seen."

Merry nodded, drawing a deep lung of smoke and blew small rings. "Perhaps it's best to start with Boromir..."

---

Far from Isengard flying over lands black as pitch and smelling of charring flesh, Freeza and Zarbon were languidly mucking about.

Zarbon wrinkled his nose at the stench and flipped his braid from his shoulder. "My Lord, why aren't we tracking down Kakkarot and Vegeta? Why bother flying around the same places over and over?

Freeza smiled coldly over his shoulder. "Because my dear Zarbon, we are on vacation. Besides, those monkeys are so stupid they probably don't even know we're here."

Zarbon sighed, feeling down the length of his braid and grimacing at the grime and oil he felt embedded in it. How frustrating could one simple mission get? They were supposed to kill the saiyajins and destroy the earth and now here he was flying around in a cesspool someone called home, ruining his hair and all without a decent bath to be found.

Below them two small shapes moved in and out of the shadows, running and hopping back and forth as though trying not to be seen. Zarbon smirked and flew down, careful to stay hidden in the darkness without actually touching anything.

"Come Mr. Frodo. We'll try to make it to that landing and we'll rest." A short creature spoke, ki level so pathetic Zarbon nearly laughed and gave away his position. Behind the stout one was another, thinner creature with one hand clutched to his chest.

"I'm coming, Sam."

Zarbon stepped from the shadows directly in front of the first. The squat one named Sam jumped back, arm curling behind him to protect Frodo, while the other drew a small dagger from his waist.

"Go on, orc, we have no trouble with you." Sam spoke, voice strong but sword point wavering.

Zarbon laughed and thumbed his earring. "I am no vile thing as an orc, boy."

The dagger wavered further and Zarbon could see the confusion and mistrust waver on the small man's face. "Not an orc? What are you then?"

Taking a step forward, Zarbon leaned down until his lips were barely touching the tip of Sam's ear, golden eyes twinkling at Frodo. "I am something much worse."

Sam gasped, poking at Zarbon's ribs with the dagger but the edge did little more than cut through his robes. Zarbon sneered, fingers playing over the hole in his attire. "How dare you?" He hissed.

He stepped forward again, hand reaching to grab the chubby man by his throat. Frodo bound forward, slapping the hand away. Zarbon grinned, pointed teeth gleaming in the dim lighting. "Don't touch him!"

Zarbon stared down at Frodo, intrigued at his protectiveness and disgusted at being touched by the filthy thing. His eyes caught attention of a gold band swinging freely from a chain around the boy's neck. Golden orbs brightened and a pale blue hand reached forward--new pretty jewels would make the stay on this horrid planet so much more bearable-- but before his hand could close around it Freeza's harsh voice called to him.

"Zarbon! Quit playing with those brats and follow me."

Freeza hovered in the air far above, fists on his hips and face set in a cold sneer. With a half sigh, half snarl Zarbon leapt into the air. "Yes, Freeza."

Sam and Frodo below huddled together a moment as they watched the creatures move on before taking off into the darkness for shelter.

"Honestly, Zarbon. Playing with pathetic children."

Zarbon frowned at the back of Freeza's head. All he had wanted was the boy's bauble, honestly he never asked for much...

----

_Tulunka_ = steady


	23. The Prison of Orthanc

a/n: just for clarification. FFN has--for some odd reason or another--not allowed me to keep my original page breaks so they now look like this "vVvVvVv" unfortunately it looks stupid, but it seems only letters have stayed so I picked something that isn't used often.

vVvVvVv

Piccolo sat contentedly listening to the Hobbits' tales, smiling at their jokes and frowning at the sketchy parts of the story where one would trail off with a distant, scared look in his eyes only to have the other pick up the tale in his place.

When the stories ended, the comfortable 'complete' feeling of the silence was refreshing. Legolas and Gimli began to rib each other again, the Hobbits giving helpful encouragement by poking them with a stick or pointing out other flaws they had missed. With each jab of the stick, Legolas would push back a bit, slowly inching toward Piccolo. Merry and Pippin played innocence as they kept smiling lightly at each other, knowing full well that the other two were enjoying the chance to get closer without it being very suspicious to the others.

By the time Gandalf and Theoden managed to return to them after speaking to Treebeard, Legolas was a foot from his initial position and leaning imperceptibly onto Piccolo's thigh.

"Come, it is time we pay our old friend a visit." Gandalf nodded his head toward the busted tower.

Traveling on the grasses and well drained fields, the group moved closer to Isengard. Gandalf paused outside the broken front door. "Only a small group of you may enter. And take heed," the aged wizard held up a crooked finger, "do not get lost in his voice. Saruman has a wicked magic, and a forked tongue to match."

Theoden, Eomer and two of their captains followed Gandalf; Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and Goku went with them. The Hobbits were forced to stay by Gandalf's hand, though they made less of a fuss when Piccolo volunteered to stay with them. Trunks didn't truly know what was going on and decided to stay out of the way. The twin sons of Elrond had their mischievous curiosity piqued but the demi saiyajin's company won out. Vegeta could care less at the moment, citing Freeza and Zarbon's odd movement to Goku--though the third class happened to notice the Ouji carefully watching Elrohir and Elladan from the corner of his regal eye.

Goku followed the royal men up the flights of stairs. Gandalf stopped on a level landing several feet below an inner balcony. He motioned the others to a pause and curled his long fingers tightly around his staff. "Saruman! Saruman, come forth!"

A calm, gentle voice carried from inside the boarded doors, "Why must you disturb my rest?" The captains at Eomer's side loosened, the voice swathing their fear like fresh cool water to a parched throat.

Soundless and gliding, Saruman moved through the entry like shadow. He stood, gazing down on the group of them with lidded eyes. "Two of your faces I recognize, Gandalf, whose face I know too well. And Theoden King, regal and mightiest king of the Riddermark; much have I wanted to see you to prepare you from evil council, is it yet too late? I alone can aid you now."

Theoden stood, mouth agape and gazing confusedly between Gandalf and Saruman. Gandalf made no reply, wary as a hunted panther and still as stone. The captains behind their king nodded to each other, the words the trapped wizard spoke seemed all too reasonable. The air hung thick and heavy, suffocating in its intensity.

Goku looked between the men, confused to why everyone was so angry all of the sudden. Gimli growled in his throat, the grip on his axe handle tightened until his knuckles popped. "The only evil in this room lies not with Gandalf..." The dwarf scowled.

"I am not speaking to you, Gimli son of Gloin!" Saruman thundered, voice echoing a plea bordering on a whine. The spell held across the men of Rohan cracked and wavered, Theoden and his captains now scowling up at the trapped white wizard.

Theoden stood, mouth clamped shut as though cemented. Eomer turned to his sire, hand clasped to the man's shoulder. "Only now do we face the danger we have heard of. We have felt victory only to stand at last amazed by an old liar with honey on his forked tongue. So would the trapped wolf speak to the hounds if he could."

Flames danced in Saruman's eyes and Goku watched in transfixion. "If we speak of poisoned tongues, what shall we say of yours, young serpent?"

At the foot of the stairs, Merry and Pippin sat with their heads in their hands, feeling bored and unimportant. Piccolo was leaning against the stairs with arms folded across his chest. Beyond them, the riders of Rohan stood in awe of the voice and speech that found them from Saruman's lips.

Vegeta caught his son's eye and frowned deeply, the lines of his face further defined. Both royal saiyajins listened with careful attention while still managing to look entirely nonchalant--something the elder had perfected with years of practice, while the younger inherited it from his poised father. Both were prepared to stave off the army of men who were growing further restless the more the white wizard spoke. Trunks glanced at the elves beside him, they also looked tired and eager but not caught up in the voice of Saruman as Théoden's men.

"This could get ugly." Trunks murmured, eyes looking over the sea of aghast and anxious faces of men, they settled on Piccolo when the Namek snorted. Piccolo smirked and shook his head.

From above them a deep rolling laugh shattered what remained of Saruman's spell like a sheet of ice struck by a pickaxe. Vegeta quirked an eyebrow at Mirai while the demi looked up the winding stairs.

Gandalf smiled wide up at the trapped wizard. Just behind him Goku felt the back of his neck prickle as the last of the white wizards mirth faded away. An ebon head cocked to the side fully intrigued at what he was witnessing.

A tricky, sick kind of smile played along the wizard's face as he spoke again to Saruman. "Come now, Saruman. The protection of Isengard has not held out as you had so hoped. Come down and be free to leave and live as your wont."

Goku blinked with wide eyes but smiled happily. Gandalf was giving the other a chance to flee, to try to change himself. The protector of earth knew about these things, even when the others scowled--namely Vegeta--when he tried to get a new threat to the earth to just drop it and go. Everyone deserved a second chance, even Saruman.

Fist tightening on his staff, Saruman sneered down over the edge. "Free? Free? What form of fool do you take me for. Surely there are some rules to your mercy that have yet to come forth."

A nodding of a white head made Saruman laugh cruelly. "You will give to me the Key of Orthanc, and surrender to me your staff."

Saruman's laughter died on his tongue. He curled his lips into a bitter smile. "Give you what is mine, to be granted back to me as probation when it would suit you? I think not. Come back again when you are sober." The once-great wizard turned on his heel and disappeared from the balcony.

"Saruman, come out! I have not finished with you yet!" Gandalf called, face pallid and angry. From the shadows Saruman returned, looking as though a puppet caught on a nail and being drug back to stage against his bounds. When the man's hollow face returned to the patio edge, Gandalf flung the grey cloak from his back. "Behold, Saruman! I am no longer Gandalf the Grey, but Gandalf the White returned from the dead. I cast you out of the order and from the Council!"

Shaking from rage or fear, those who looked upon him were not sure, Saruman withered under Gandalf's glowing purity. "Your staff is broken, Saruman." And with a sharp crack, splinters rained from under the wizard's hand and the head of his cane tipped over the edge and landed at Gandalf's feet. With narrowed eyes, Gandalf pinned the stricken man to his spot. "Go!" And Saruman fell back, tripping over his own feet and crawling away from the balcony back to the shadows.

Goku shook his head and gazed hard into the dark, but nothing stirred. From the depths a sphere of smoked glass arched high from the window, passing beyond Gandalf's head by mere inches and clipped the stones as it fell and rolled.

At the bottom of the steps, Merry and Pippin jumped up in surprise as the stone sped by them. Pippin ran after it, seeing the smooth surface glowing lightly in the murky waters. He picked the stone from the deep puddle only to have it snatched away by gloved hands. Vegeta scowled down at him, the orb held in one strong palm. "Careful boy, that could have blown you into bite-sized Hobbit pieces."

Pippin's blue eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. Down the stairs came Gandalf and the rest. Eyes resting on the globe in Vegeta's hands, Gandalf lay a cloth over it and bundled it before storing it into the folds of his robes. He nodded gravely at Vegeta. "Thank you."

"Could-could that kill me, Gandalf?" Pippin tugged at the wizard's sleeve.

Gandalf smiled gently, "It is a strange and dangerous thing, Peregrin Took."

"Then I could have been blown into 'bite-sized Hobbit pieces?'" Pippin squeaked.

Goku's eyebrows rose to his hairline and he looked down at Vegeta. The saiyajin prince shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. Gandalf glanced at them and snorted, trying not to laugh at Pippin's valid fears. "I do not think you have to worry about that, Pippin. I'm sure Vegeta only meant that it is not something to play idly with." He patted the young Hobbit on the head and turned to the others. Pippin let out a relieved sigh and stood next to his cousin.

"Come!" Gandalf called. "We must tell Treebeard of what has happened here."

vVvVvVv

Wiping the sweat from her brow, Bulma left the shed, a wide smile on her face and grease in her hair. Not only had she finished making the corrections to her time machine, but she had tweaked it to her liking and was gratefully ecstatic when her hip accidentally opened the storage compartment inside. As the door popped open, several capsules fell at her feet. Picking them up one by one she read the small script and design on each label.

The first held a plethora of clothes from summer to winter and back again. Bulma laughed and jumped up and down, no more girdles and bodices if she could help it. It had been nice to dress up the first couple days, but Dende did she miss a nice pair of broken in jeans and sneakers.

The second and third held freeze dried and non-perishable foods respectively. Something she remembered putting there now that she held them in her hands. They both held enough food to feed Goku and Vegeta for several days, and that was saying something.

The fourth held a make-shift emergency lab for just this kind of purpose. Bulma sighed and slapped herself in the forehead. And here she had been using rocks and sticks until Lord Elrond brought her those beautiful tools. Maybe she should open it somewhere in a clearing and rummage around for something to give to him in return for his generosity.

As she squinted at the text on the last vial her eyes grew wide and she danced in circles, whooping and giggling madly, not noticing the shocked looks of several elves and the sniggering of 'Elin as the servant approached.

"Did you find something that's pleased you, Alora?" Elin asked.

Bulma continued to jump up and down and beamed widely at her friend, still hopping as she hugged her. "Yes!"

By now the commotion had drawn enough attention for Elrond to be told and the elfin Lord moved through the crowds easily. When he made it to the front, Bulma spotted him and bounded over, still giggling and bouncy.

"This is so great!" She squealed, hugging the lord tightly while bouncing. Elrond wobbled back and forth with wide eyes. Never before had he encountered anyone with this kind of energy. Not even when Estel had been a child and eaten an entire bowl of something sweet the Lady Galadriel had sent to him called 'chocolate'.

With another pounce, Bulma wrapped her arms around his neck and, still laughing, kissed him soundly on the lips. The elves around them smiled lightly to each other and turned away, dispersing themselves with quick looks back over their shoulders. Bulma pulled away in surprise a minute later, hand over her mouth but still giggling lightly. "Sorry."

Lord Elrond blinked down at her, still in shock. "What..."

'Elin stepped forward and cleared her throat. "What is all the excitement about my Lord?"

Elrond nodded, still gawking at Bulma as the woman looked at her hand and began to hop around again.

Turning on them, Bulma threw her hands in the air. "Sensu beans!" She cried, laughing harder anew until tears rolled down her cheeks. She hugged 'Elin and then Elrond again, "Sensu beans!"

vVvVvVv

Vegeta and Goku sat from the rest of the Fellowship though they still gazed with reverence at the tall Ent Gandalf had called Treebeard. "That's a really big tree, 'Geta." Goku gasped, leaning backward lightly to look up.

The Prince nodded, turning his gaze away and watched as the innocence that was Goku played on the man's face. Instead of feeling annoyed or irritated like he had been expecting, Vegeta grinned--a mere curling of the lips--and settled a hand over Goku's forearm.

Goku looked over at him and smiled widely, shifting a bit closer as he turned his sight back to the Ent. He swung a companionable arm around Vegeta's shoulders and squeezed him closer. To any looking Vegeta grumbled and frowned, but he actually tucked himself snuggly in the crook of Goku's elbow and purred at the comfortable heat that rolled off of his mate.

In the distance, Treebeard began to sing new lines of song about the Hobbits, Merry and Pippin. Goku turned his head and smiled down at Vegeta as the gruff voice toned on. He leaned toward the Prince until his nose rested in the whispy upsweep of Vegeta's temple. Warm breath caressed Vegeta's ear and he shivered. Goku's arm tightened around his shoulders and Vegeta felt the breath move until it warmed his neck.

Gooseflesh rose in ripples as damp air puffed in shallow breaths along the hollow juncture of his neck and shoulder. Sharp teeth nipped at the waiting flesh and Vegeta felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle. He growled and flexed the muscles of his neck, satisfied in the hunger and intensity of Goku's lips on his jugular. Vegeta felt the teeth scrape again and the growl this time was a warning and Goku drew back, breath shallow and haggard, face blotched and eyes wild.

Vegeta smirked and stood away from the third class, turning his back to the others and grinned mischievously. He bent face to face with Goku and curled his lips to show twin lines of sharp, even, white teeth in a challenge. Goku stood, returning the crazed grin with one of his own and in a flicker of outline the two saiyajin disappeared from normal men's sight.

A plume of dust rose high and violently into the air forty feet from where they once stood. Another with ricocheting rocks some twenty feet from the last, and soon the whole of the plains were subject to random bursts of clay, grasses and rock in showers. Treebeard in his eternity of wisdom looked on with queer curiosity along with confused gazes of everyone else save two beings. One with lilac hair and the other jade skin.

Trunks followed Goku and his father's paths with a small happy smile until he realized that they weren't trading blows when they came together but furious gropes and vicious kisses that bordered on bloody bites. He had blushed then and tried not to look at them, only following their movement with the corner of his sight and never looking directly at them.

The elves caught flashes now and then when the two came to rest for nano seconds before splitting apart again. Piccolo shook his head, not wanting to witness what Trunks had realized moments before but still catching the odd encounter now and again. The two drew progressively closer to the group around the ent and before long, Piccolo felt a hard body slam into his side and stumble him twenty odd feet toward the clearing. When he landed he didn't gain himself and fell on his elbow and ribs. He sprang up with a harsh hiss and spun, ignoring the bruises that already were taking shape, and leapt at the flickering shape of Vegeta and caught the shorter saiyajin by the waist.

An oddly humored face met him when they fell to the earth. Vegeta grinning like a wild cat, blood across his lips and neck and bruises lay just under the crimson smears. "Take it easy, Vegeta." Piccolo snarled, fangs glinting.

Breathy laughter escaped Vegeta as he stood. His eyes never rested on Piccolo, too busy staring at Goku who hovered in the air far above them in wait. Piccolo could feel the odd heat around him and stepped back. "Don't worry, Namek. I have no designs on your elf or anyone else."

Piccolo's eyes narrowed and he watched as Vegeta leapt into the sky with a blast of vapor. "That's not what I meant!" Piccolo called up to him, but it was in vain when he saw the saiyajins fall into each other like rabid wolves and disappear again.

He returned to the group who stood with odd looks and waiting questions. Piccolo didn't look at any of them, instead crossing his arms over his chest and looking only to Legolas. A quirked smooth eyebrow was the only question and Piccolo shook his head to dispel anything the elf would ask him. He didn't feel like telling the whole fellowship that the two saiyajins were half in heat and trying to ravish each other in any way possible.


	24. For the Love of a Mortal Man

Arwen furiously paced the halls. Her father was currently missing in action and she needed to find him. A crumpled ball of paper with elegant elfin scrawl was clutched in her right fist. Her skirts billowed out behind her as she stalked through the halls. She was one hair short of bellowing through the hallways.

Glorfindel back peddled harshly after turning a corner to stop himself from running into the Lady. He watched her pass with determined strides and that too-familiar stubborn look on her face that was entirely her father's. He prayed that she found who she was searching for, and that they wouldn't wind up in the medical ward before the night was over.

Stepping back out of Lord Elrond's study for the third time that morning, Arwen spun on her heel and headed for the garden's. The closer she drew to the doors, the more elves she met entering. Her anger partly giving way to curiosity, Arwen stepped outside and gazed around. Her sight fell on the source of the odd migration of elves and her reason for searching.

Lord Elrond stood talking quietly to an overly excited Bulma. He smiled at his daughter as she drew near, but the look slowly drained from his face at the hard eyes and tight lips of his daughter.

"Ada." Arwen stopped in front of her father and Bulma, the woman looking quite subdued from her former rapture only moments before.

Elrond opened his mouth to greet his daughter only to have a fistful of paper nearly shoved in it. "What is this? When were you going to tell me about it or were you going to keep it a secret so you might send me off to Valinor?"

Elrond took the paper from her hand and smoothed it. Bulma peeked around his shoulder but couldn't read the script. The elfin Lord's face smoothed and he looked up at his daughter with sadness in his eyes. "I only wanted to protect you."

"_Varya? Varya! Lav-Estel qualme! Lav-indo qualme_." Arwen stopped, tears streaming her pale cheeks as she drew shaky breath. "For me to die."

Taken aback by the force of her words, Elrond stepped forward with arms open to comfort his daughter as a father would, but Arwen stepped away. "Reforge the sword, Ada. Give my heart, my Estel, a chance."

Hands back to his sides, Elrond looked down at the paper still in his hands and nodded his head. Bulma looked confused beside him, not understand what Arwen had told her father, not even what it was they were so upset about, but the importance of it did not need translation.

She clasped hold of Elrond's hand and pressed the capsule into his palm. "I'm not sure what it is you're doing, but I have a feeling you'll be seeing Goku sooner than I will."

Elrond smiled lightly at her and nodded his head, unsurprised at how the blue haired vixen was able to pick up on the importance of what was happening. Bulma smiled weakly back at him. "Give this to Goku. I hope he doesn't need it, but just in case."

The small white vial in his hand looked relatively unimportant to his eyes, but if Bulma said that the large saiyajin needed it, he would deliver it--along with the sword reforged--to the cluster of warriors.

He cupped his daughters cheek, relieved when she did not pull away, and kissed her forehead. "Find Glorfindel, we need to work quickly."

---

Many of the Rohan men rode along happily. The war was yet to be won, but with the recent victory still fresh around them they couldn't help but feel revitalized.

Gimli rode behind Legolas again, watching with a curious eye the interaction between the regal elf and the alien Namek. Tension didn't ride high between them like it had the day before, and unless he was mistaken and far more weary than he thought, both creatures would smile quietly now and then at each other.

"You seem in high spirits today, Piccolo." Gimli smiled around his pipe.

Piccolo grunted, "I had a restful night."

Gimli nodded, looking up at Legolas when the elf laughed. "What a coincidence, Master Namek." Piccolo quirked an eye ridge at Legolas' light-hearted tone and innocent smile. "I too had a satisfactory rest."

"Satisfactory?" Piccolo looked up at him suddenly, nearly stumbling over his own feet.

"You might say it was the best nights sleep I've had in centuries." Legolas beamed and leaned forward on his horse and ran his fingers across Piccolo's neck. Gimli began to lose his balance and flailed, catching hold of the saddle beneath him but his movement had been enough to break the moment between them.

Legolas straightened, clearing his throat. "You had an insect."

Piccolo nodded, absently running his palm over the spot the elf had touched. "Thank you."

Gimli narrowed his eyes, curious because he knew he had seen something but hell if he could quite put a finger on it. Instead he decided to relax and watch, it would come to him eventually.

Both the pureblood saiyajins were still missing, though both Piccolo and Trunks--with a deep blush and stutter--reassured the others that they weren't far from them. Now and then a small drip of sweat or blood would fall to the earth from the sky but no one seemed to notice.

True to the fellow Z warrior's words, Vegeta and Goku were far above the slow moving line of men, not moving too quickly to see but too far above for men's eyes to notice them. Vegeta snarled as sharp eye teeth bit deeply into his shoulder, warm blood dripping down his arm and trickling from his fingertips. A tongue, not entirely apologetic, lapped away at the tang of the prince's life essense.

Goku smirked, blood on his lips and staining his teeth. Vegeta grasped a handful of the younger's hair and traced the man's lips with the tip of his tongue before roughly grasping hold of the front of his tunic and ripping it into shreds. Flutters of cloth fell to the earth in ribbons as Goku growled. "That was my last tunic, Vegeta." He hissed into a royal ear.

"What do I care, baka." Vegeta grinned before sucking deep purple bruises onto Goku's flesh.

An uncharacteristic evil laugh tumbled from Goku's lips and Vegeta quirked an eyebrow. Within seconds, Goku had jumped into an ascended saiyajin and had the Ouji's arms pinned painfully behind his back, his naked chest pressed across Vegeta's still clad back. Vegeta struggled, frustrated and angry. "Let go of me, Kakkarot!"

More of the low laughter sent shivers down Vegeta's spine. "I don't think I will, Vegeta. I rather like the way you squirm."

Immediately Vegeta stilled and scowled, swinging his head backward trying to connect with Goku's face, but without luck. He could feel the smirk on Goku's face and tried to break the hold the younger had on him but again without success.

"Gee, Vegeta...looks like I win." Goku purred into his ear. Sharp teeth scraped across his neck and Vegeta growled. Goku's obvious arousal to the situation was pressed tightly against Vegeta's backside and for one reason or another, Vegeta found the situation less and less unfavorable and unwittingly began to purr and grind himself into the taller saiyajin.

Goku hissed in appreciation and bit deeper into the hard flesh of Vegeta's shoulder. He gripped hold of the top of Vegeta's breeches and set his face over Vegeta's shoulder, his cheek against Vegeta's. "Vegeeeetaaaa..."

Far below them, still moving across the plains, hordes of men jumped in shock and fear as a bellow of epic proportions echoed across the field. Aragorn scanned the sky, trying to see what beast could emit such a deep and angry sound but found none. The ranger turned his horse, riding to Legolas' side. "Legolas, what do your elf eyes see?"

Blonde hair fanned in the breeze as the elf turned his head, scanning the skies at his friend's request. He stiffened suddenly and turned his head away, face pale and eyes wide. Aragorn leaned toward his friend, worried at his sudden appearance. "Are you well? What do you see?"

Behind them, the twin sons of Elrond grew worried as well and looked up and around to find what had made their friend so stricken. Their eyes grew round and odd grins stretched on their faces. They turned to speak to Aragorn but found they couldn't as Trunks clapped his hands over their mouths and tucked them under his arm so they couldn't escape.

"What is going on?" Gandalf called over, his weathered face curious.

Trunks cleared his throat and tried to speak but whenever he started his face flushed and he couldn't talk. Piccolo sighed and ran a hand down his face. "It's...Goku and Vegeta."

Gandalf nodded, stroking his beard. An odd twinkle in his eye and he laughed. He looked directly into Piccolo's eyes and asked with a straight face, "Sparring a little too roughly?"

Piccolo snorted. "Yea..."

Aragorn accepted the answer with a slow nod but was reluctant to leave Legolas. Piccolo stepped toward the grey mare and cleared his throat. Legolas looked down at him from his ride, eyes still wide. Piccolo grinned up at him. "See something interesting?"

The elf broke from his trance and smiled, frowned and then smiled again. "Perhaps it is something I will discuss with you this evening."

Piccolo caught the suggestive tone and quirked a brow as he choked. Legolas laughed, the sound light and refreshing like bubbling spring water. Aragorn felt better after hearing it and turned to return to the front, no longer as worried as before.

Behind them, Trunks let go of Elladan and Elrohir. Both elves swung an arm across Mirai's shoulders and grinned widely at him. Trunks reluctantly smiled back at them and shook his head. "Just...don't talk about it."

The twins laughed and Mirai curled his arms around their waists--much to their suprise--and he tugged them in closer. He glanced at both of them and a slightly crazed smile quirked his lip. "But now that you've seen it, do you think you can handle it?"

Two sets of elfin eyes widened in realization--Trunks was his father's son after all--and they tried to pull away a little but Trunks' arms tightened and he hugged them closer. A lilac head dipped and Mirai laughed, long and hard while those around him smiled quietly at him, not knowing of his mirth.

---

_Varya? Varya! Lav-Estel qualme. Lav-indo qualme. - _Protect? Protect! Allow Estel death! Allow my heart to die.


	25. Of Hobbit tales and Goodbye Kisses

a/n: I'm quite proud of this chapter. Enjoy.

---

The night on the plains was far more relaxed than the ride to Isengard. Men lounged, telling tales and singing songs from days of old. Campfires were still burning quite low, forcing the groups to sit closely together to gain the heat. Around the Fellowship campfire, Merry, Pippin, Gimli, Legolas and Piccolo sat in a ring directly around the fire. Aragorn was currently in council with Gandalf, Eomer and Theoden. Trunks and the twins sat as a trio just beside the others in their own conversation and while Goku and Vegeta were no longer missing, they simply kept away from the others.

Merry and Pippin sat on either side of Piccolo, happily telling tales from the Shire. Legolas sat across the fire from them, smiling at the Hobbits' tales and then smiling at Piccolo, sometimes winking, sometimes stretching in slow, sensuous arches just to throw the Namek off his guard.

Piccolo was listening to Pippin as the Hobbit laughed as he spun his yarn, Merry was turning beet red beside him the longer his cousin talked. "..and Merry fell head first into the barrel. Old Rory and I grabbed him by the ankles to haul him out and he fought us off until he fell back in! It wasn't until he come back up with a great smile and dripping wet we read what was on the barrel. 'Grimbold Ale.'" Pippin laughed heartily as Merry shrugged sheepishly.

A small smooth stone no larger than an overgrown pebble arched neatly through the air and hit Piccolo in the shoulder. Surprised, he stiffened and acutely listened and felt around him with his ki. Across from him, Legolas looked far too innocent.

With narrowed eyes and heightened senses, he turned back to Merry as the small one started an embarrassing story about Pippin in retaliation. With senses attuned, Piccolo could feel the movement and even hear the whistle of the rock as it flew. It never stood a chance of landing, very few people could land a hit once when Piccolo was distracted, and no one so far had managed a second. Fast as lightening, Piccolo's hand shot up and out, snatching the rock from the air without looking.

Merry stopped talking, eyes wide in shock. Piccolo opened his hand and dropped the stone into Pippin's hand. Merry soon shuffled around the Namek's bulk to look down at the innocent thing. Piccolo, however, never bothered to look at it. Instead, he slowly turned his head and stared calmly at Legolas. The elf did a fair job of hiding his surprise but the impressed cock of his eyebrow gave him away.

Piccolo expected a comment of some sort, an apology or an affirmation of some kind. What he got instead was the fair elf plucking another pebble from the ground and lobbing it at his head. Piccolo slapped it away and scowled. "Do you mind?"

Legolas smiled twin rows of pearly teeth and twinkling eyes. "Not at all." And he threw another pebble.

Irritated, Piccolo poised himself and as Legolas ran a palmful of dirt through his fingers to catch another stone, the Namek launched himself, catching Legolas at the chest. The elf seemed ready for him. With a large smile and braced body he rolled them both several feet from the fire. They came to a stop some seven feet away from the group, Legolas pinned beneath Piccolo's heavier weight.

"What have you got to say for yourself?" Piccolo mumbled, no longer feeling the least bit irritated. He lowered his head to breathe lightly in Legolas' ear. The elf shivered.

"If I would have known earlier this would have been your reaction, I would have done so sooner." Legolas smiled, lips brushing across Piccolo's cheekbone as he did.

Piccolo could practically feel dozens of sets of eyes bore into his back. He turned his head enough to smirk at Legolas. "Unfortunately this is the wrong time to punish you."

The elf frowned. "Quite." He started to sit up but Piccolo hadn't begun to move yet and he only served to press himself firmly into the Namek's chest. He looked up and grinned at the odd sheen in Piccolo's ebon eyes.

"Did you think you would get out of it that easily?" Piccolo rumbled.

Legolas nipped at the Namek's lips before he wiggled in a wholly inappropriate manner to free himself from Piccolo's clutches. "I certainly hope not."

Piccolo shook his head and stood with a grin. The closest of those around them were watching him closely as he dusted his tunic. He slowly turned, eyes hard and scowling. His eyes lit on each man around and as they felt the heat of his gaze they turned quickly away. Satisfied that he wouldn't have to deal with further prying eyes and irritating glances he returned to his seat by the fire.

Merry and Pippin smiled largely at him and Piccolo cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing." Pippin shook his head.

"Yea, nothing." Merry grinned as he elbowed his cousin. The two laughed quietly together and Piccolo shook his head.

Beyond him, Gimli sat scratching at his beard with the tip of his pipe. A queer look of contemplation lay engraved in the lines of his face. The dwarf was looking calmly between Piccolo and Legolas and a slow smile tilted his lips. He put his pipe between his teeth and puffed away.

---

Aragorn sat on a pile of furs, Eomer lain out half asleep on a pile across from him. They had finished discussing Theoden's fears and concerns and now the King had been called out by his guard Gamling to speak to some of the troops.

The ranger had never felt so lost and confused in his entire long life. To fulfill his destiny, to follow a prophecy written by the Gods themselves so many eons ago...he couldn't help but feel like a pawn in a great game that had been started centuries before any being had set foot on the earth.

All he needed now was something to help point him in the right direction. Even great rulers and kingly kings took the contributions of their advisors.

Theoden returned through the tent flap, his face confused and slightly curious. "Aragorn, you have a visitor."

The king stepped to the side and a heavily cloaked and hooded figure moved through the entry. Theoden motioned to his nephew who stood quickly from his prone position and nodded. He gave Aragorn a companionable squeeze on his shoulder as he left. As Theoden gave the stranger a once over, he followed his nephew into the night.

"What do you want?" Aragorn narrowed his eyes. He was expecting no company and though he felt he should prepare for whatever may come, he felt oddly calm in the other's presence.

A pale hand emerged from the folds of robes and as it touched the hood of the cape, Aragorn already knew who would lie beneath it even before the cloth fell away from a smooth face. "Elrond."

The noble elf nodded his head and studied his foster sons face with intense steely eyes. Aragorn stood straight and tall, used to many of these looks from his youth when he had caused mischief and the Lord was thinking of a suitable punishment. The other times had been before Elrond had made a hard decision concerning him, and now under the elf's gaze again he thought it was the latter.

"Are you prepared for the destiny that lies before you, Aragorn?" Lord Elrond's voice was quiet, not prying, not concerned, simply curious.

Strider thought hard for a long moment. He had asked himself that question since he had left Imladris many, many days ago. He nodded his head sharply. "I am."

The corners of Elrond's lips twitched and he lowered his head. "Good."

With a twitching of capes and slide of hand too fast for the man to see, a long scabbard was drawn from the folds draped along Elrond's lithe form. He held the bundle toward his foster son with a serious face.

Aragorn took the package and removed the cloth surrounding it and widened his eyes in surprise. Isuldir's sword lay in his hands, complete and entire. He drew the blade from the sheath and balanced the weight in his hand, the heft and length of the sleek steel felt like a deadly extension to his arm. He gripped it in both hands, fingers curling perfectly around the hilt and swung it for good measure. The blade cut the air with a hum and Aragorn carefully returned it to its sheath as though it were made of glass.

"The true King of Gondor." Elrond bowed lightly at the waist and Aragorn shifted uncomfortably. The elf felt his discomfort and straightened with a small smile. "You know where your path lies. Your future, however, will be decided on which road you choose..."

---

Legolas was enjoying his teasing of the Hobbits and Gimli--and his own personal teasing of Piccolo moreso. The spirits around each of them seemed to have relaxed after so much horror and death had affected them. It was wholly heartening.

From behind him, Goku and Vegeta made their grand reappearance for the night. Goku strode forward and plopped wearily--if not very happily--beside Piccolo. Vegeta, however, took his sweet time settling to the ground and grimaced for a second before setting his face into a permanent scowl.

"Are you not cold in that attire?" Legolas asked, a laughing smile on his lips.

Goku looked down at himself, dressed only in his breeches and boots. He laughed sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck. "Well...I only came on the trip with two shirts and they're both ruined."

Vegeta smirked lightly as the small group looked to him. "The Namek can help you. He's had the experience."

Goku turned questioning eyes to Piccolo, but the Namek was too busy glaring at Vegeta. "Geez, Piccolo it would be great to have another shirt." Goku smiled his best Son smile and tilted his head like a puppy.

Piccolo sighed and rolled his eyes before he placed a flat palm over Goku's chest. A quick moment later a fresh brown tunic was wrapped neatly around Goku's exposed flesh.

"Thanks, Piccolo!" Goku beamed and ran his hands over the fabric. Merry and Pippin were talking excitedly at the new trick while Gimli mumbled something about being a handy tailor.

Trunks and the twins soon joined them, squeezing into the shrinking space around the fire. Elladan smiled innocently at the two elder saiyajin. "I trust you are having a pleasant evening."

Mirai elbowed him in the ribs and cleared his throat in embarrassment. Elladan pouted and rubbed his side while Elrohir laughed at his expense. "Actually, Dad, I have a question."

Vegeta turned his head toward his son to signal he was listening. Trunks pushed his hair from his face and tugged at a strand as he spoke. "Are we ever going to track Freeza or wait until he finds us? I mean, if he broke out of hell he has to be stronger."

The saiyajin prince snorted. "That ice princess will get what's coming to him."

Goku nodded. "Actually, Trunks, both your father and I figured we'd go after him once we finish helping the others get to where they need to be. We're here to help them, and that's going to mean getting to Freeza one way or another."

Mirai nodded his head and chewed on his lip in thought. "What about you, Piccolo?"

The Namek looked slightly surprised at the question but soon settled into his warrior face. "I won't be going with you." Four sets of surprised eyes turned to him--three saiyajin and one elfish.

Goku gaped. "Why not, Piccolo?"

"I'll just get in your way. I wasn't strong enough to defeat Freeza then, and I won't be now." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"But, Piccolo, it's been a long time and you've gotten a lot stronger since then." Trunks tried to reason with him.

The others around the fire looked between the foreigners to Middle Earth with interest.

"Goku and Vegeta can handle it, and if they need help, you'll be there to help them. I'll just get in the way." Piccolo stated calmly.

Mirai and Goku both looked like they were going to speak but Vegeta beat them. "I agree."

"What?!" Goku looked to the Ouji with large eyes.

"Think about it Kakkarot. What the Namek says is true. He may or may not be strong enough to fight Freeza but we are far stronger. Besides, if we go after the tyrant, the others will need someone strong to stay with them." Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest, his answer brooking no argument.

Silence fell between them, breaking the light and happy mood with new thoughts of war and old memories of those dead dredged up to haunt them again.

---

"Then I leave you to your path." Elrond smiled sadly. "Be careful, Estel."

Aragorn nodded, the blade of his sire now strapped to his hip. He watched as the Lord turned to the entrance and drew his hood up over his face. Elrond paused in midstep and shuffled through his folds of robe and withdrew a small white vial. He pushed it into Aragorn's hand. "For Goku from the Lady Bulma. It is important he gets it."

"Of course." Aragorn turned the fragile thing over in his hand and pocketed it. Lord Elrond turned again and soon disappeared into the twilight.

The ranger stood staring at the spot the elf had gone before coming to his senses and grasping his satchel and securing the ties. He exited the tent and strode to his horse. The beast stood waiting for him as though knowing he would be needed. Aragorn slung the bag across the saddle and pet its velvety nose. "We have a dangerous path to travel, my friend."

Mounted, Aragorn began to move toward a small worn path in the base of the mountain that wound away into blackness.

He had not gone half way when a light cry of surprise and blur of flaxen stopped his horse. He looked down at the frowning face of Legolas.

"You were not thinking of leaving without me?" Legolas blinked up at him. "You still have my bow at your service."

A squat figure moved toward them, a glint off of rounded blade told them it was Gimli. "And my axe."

Aragorn smiled lightly at both of them, his heart gladdened and swelled at the courage and loyalty of his friends. "I cannot ask you to follow me."

"Then we gladly offer." Legolas said. Gimli nodded his consent.

With a curt nod, Aragorn began to move forward when a voice called out to them. "We're going too. We're here for you no matter what." Goku stepped up to them, tall and solid in the night. Behind him, Vegeta stepped forward and nodded.

The Ouji turned his head and caught his son's eye. Mirai straightened. "I'll stay with Piccolo."

"No." Piccolo was standing with the rest of them, the Hobbits looking apprehensively at all of them from their spot standing by the fire. "You are going with your father."

The Namek turned to the twin sons of Elrond and pointed at them. "You two are staying with me."

"What?" Mirai frowned, eyes hardening.

"They'll only be a distraction for you, and something for Freeza to hurt to set you off. They are coming with me."

"Come on, boy. You know he's right." Vegeta growled.

"Since when do you agree with Piccolo?" Trunks snapped, too angry to be rational.

"Since he's saved all of our asses countless times and tried to knock some sense into us numerous times before that. Now say your goodbyes and come along!" Vegeta's eyes flashed and Trunks scowled but knew better than to argue.

Elrohir looked between all of them and asked, "Don't we get a say in this?"

Piccolo and Vegeta turned to them and spoke as one, "No!"

"We haven't much time. Gather your things quickly." Aragorn motioned to them and sighed as he saw Theoden and Eomer start toward him. He turned his horse to them and met them half way, deciding on what he was going to tell them.

Mirai stalked to his bag and viciously stuffed his things inside before pausing and sighing deeply. "Dammit...you know they're right." Behind him, Elladan and Elrohir gave him a tight smile. "I'm sorry."

Elrohir waved it off. "You have nothing to be sorry for. We are all warriors here."

Elladan nodded his agreement. "We have our strengths in battle, but I do not think they will serve you well to face your evil."

"I guess not." Trunks smiled lightly, trying to lighten the horribly oppressive mood that was quickly encompassing them all. It felt too strange to break up their group. He had a horrible fear he would not see them again. He stepped forward and grappled the closest twin into a tight hug, released him and hugged the other with as much fervor.

"Be careful, huh?" He tried to smile at them, but it wouldn't stick to his face.

Both twins moved toward him, pressing a kiss to each cheek and spoke in unison. "Always."

Trunks nodded with nothing left to say to them and he shifted from one foot to another. "Aw, Hell." He grabbed hold of Elladan and crushed their lips together, hearing the elf grunt in surprise. A moment later he released him, both panting lightly and Elrohir leapt upon him for his turn.

Piccolo snorted at the scene and turned his back to them. Legolas was speaking quietly to Gimli as he tied their things to the dapple grey mare. Beside him, Pippin tugged at his tunic bottom. "Aren't you going to say goodbye, Piccolo?"

"Hmm?" He looked down at the curly head.

"To Legolas. Aren't you going to say goodbye?" Merry chimed in.

Piccolo looked over at the elf. He watched as platinum hair danced in the breeze, traced the sharp features of the elf's face and saw strong hands tying sure knots and buckles...there were many things he wanted to do, saying goodbye wasn't one of them.

The Namek shook his head. "No."

Pippin's eyes grew round. "Why not?"

"..." Piccolo didn't answer, only watched as Legolas swung a leg up over the saddle and helped Gimli on behind him. Merry took Pippin by the arm and tugged him away from Piccolo to give the Namek a little privacy.

Aragorn returned shortly after everyone had gathered in wait for him. Piccolo, along with the twins and Hobbits, walked to their group for last good tidings. He stopped beside Legolas and Gimli, the Hobbits quickly moving to the opposite side of the horse and engaging the dwarf in a conversation. Piccolo smiled at them, the meddling little brats that they were.

"I do not think we'll have time to discuss this afternoon." Legolas smiled sadly down at him from the saddle.

Piccolo snorted. "No." He scanned Legolas' face and thought hard in silence. After a moment he 'hmmed' quietly to himself. "Would you mind if I put something here," he motioned to the left breast of Legolas' tunic. "It's nothing if you don't want me too, I just thought--"

"I would be honored." Legolas interrupted, face entirely serious.

Palm flat, Piccolo flexed his ki and beneath his palm--the size no larger than a silver dollar--a white, circular patch sat affixed to the elf's tunic. Legolas looked at it and smiled softly, the script inside made no sense to him, but he didn't particularly care.

"What does it say?" Pippin asked.

Piccolo jumped lightly, having forgotten the others around him. The bridge of his nose tinted purple and he opened his mouth to speak but Vegeta beat him to it.

"It means the elf is his." Vegeta smirked at the horror-filled look he got from Piccolo.

"Oh." Pippin's eyes were wide but he soon smiled happily and ran off to tell Merry.

Piccolo had to struggle to meet Legolas' gaze. "I can remove it if you--umf!"

Further words were blocked from escaping his mouth as his lips were sealed with a searing kiss. An few audible gasps and quiet whispers came to Piccolo's sensitive ears, but he didn't care at the moment.

They broke apart and Legolas smiled as he fingered the little patch. "It will stay where it is."

Aragorn cleared his throat and tried not to smile. He didn't want to ruin their moment, but they did need to be moving. "It is time to leave."

Legolas nodded and gripped the reigns. _"Minna qualme, Melda. Minna tanya."_

Piccolo didn't understand, but he didn't have to really. He flexed his ki, the wave of thick heat flowing over Legolas, Gimli and their mount. The horse nickered uncomfortably, its eyes growing round. "Fight with your heart. There's more strength in it than most realize."

The procession moved, Goku pausing beside Piccolo while the others moved past. "Be careful, Piccolo. We still don't know what's coming."

"I'll be on my guard, Goku." Piccolo watched the back of Legolas head as they moved on further and further.

"Legolas, huh?" Goku quipped with a grin. "I'm glad for you, Piccolo. I'll keep an eye on him for you."

Piccolo shook his head. "Don't bother. He can take care of himself."

Goku shrugged and smiled. "We'll see you in a couple of days, alright?"

"Yea."

Goku nodded and clapped Piccolo on the back. Within another long minute, Piccolo couldn't see them for the mountains and the night.

---

_Minna qualme, Melda. Minna tanya_ into death, beloved. into fire.


	26. And the Worry Grows

a/n: I grovel at your feet and pray you don't flay me for the long wait. S I am hover writing a lot as of late. And the upcoming turkey day break is just the right time for me to get some of this done. But because of my, what…two month delay you'll get a faster update this time.

Tried for something teary…I hope it worked.

---

The night felt hollow with most of their friends gone. Even though hundreds of men lay around them, Piccolo, the twins and both Hobbits felt oddly deserted. Gandalf walked past them, giving them a sympathetic and knowing smile as he went. Merry and Pippin followed him with their eyes, Merry looking away first. Pippin stared after him long after the Wizard lay down to sleep.

"Pip?" Merry elbowed his cousin, watching him with concerned eyes.

Pippin jumped, startled. "Huh? Oh, Merry." The younger Hobbit smiled shakily. "I'm tired, I think I'll just get some sleep then."

Merry nodded, eyes still wide with worry. When Pippin lay down and rolled away Merry let it go and lay down too. His eyes drooped quickly, he hadn't realized just how tired he really was.

---

Some time between days end and a new days beginning, Pippin sat up and ran a hand over his sleep wrinkled face. Some thing, some phantom, had woken him from his sleep, he knew it had. The back of his neck prickled and a chill ran down his spine at the thought.

Beside him, Merry lay sleeping, breathing deeply of the cool night air. For a long moment, Pippin thought of waking him; just grabbing his cousin by the shoulders and shaking him until he sat up and stayed awake long enough to watch over Pippin as he fell back asleep. What am I, a helpless child? Pippin scolded himself. Honestly, afraid of the dark.

Unfortunately, there are always things to fear in the darkness.

The young Hobbit turned his head until his eyes rested on Gandalf's back. The wizard was sleeping, but just under his arm firelight danced on the surface of a smooth stone. Pippin's eyes widened, though he did not know it, and without willing his body to move he found himself tiptoeing around the sprawled and sleeping bodies of friend and stranger alike. A body would shift in sleep and he would freeze, his heart pounding in his chest so strongly he was sure it would wake the whole camp.

Finally, after a minute that felt an eternity, Pippin stood over the sleeping wizard with palms that itched with sweat. The crystal orb shimmered and winked at him as it peeked around the sleeve of Gandalf's robes. Pippin bent to retrieve it and paused half-way, hand hovering in the air. Vegeta's stern voice came back to him, 'Careful boy, that could blow you into bite-sized Hobbit pieces.'

Eyes wide, Pippin leaned back until he fell soundly onto his bottom. He rubbed at the palm that nearly touched the orb's surface as though he had been burned. But Gandalf said he was only joking... Pippin made to rise, but his eyes stuck to the orb like honey and before his mind could cry out a warning, the orb was in his hands and he was running back to his bed roll.

He curled protectively around it when he lay, trying to quell his panting and feign sleep. After regaining his breath he looked down at the stone and felt guilty. He should not have stolen what was Gandalf's, especially after he had been warned.

"Oy, Pip, look what you get yourself into." He mumbled to himself. He made up his mind then, he was going to return the stone before Gandalf woke and he wouldn't think of it again. But as he set his palms to the cool glass, deep inside a fire sparked and he felt himself tumble forward through the shiny surface and was engulfed in smoke and screams.

---

Deep in his meditative sleep, Piccolo felt the darkness around him swell and release like a tide. He saw no visions, only a calm peace that made him uneasy. Never before had he had a dreamless meditation, there was always a picture there, a memory, an illusion, a possible future.

Dancing outside of his range of vision, he could feel the blur of a coming picture. A wash of foreboding crept upon him and with immense speed the picture came at him. A large fiery eye lit atop a mountain and there beneath its hot and tepid gaze lay Pippin curled upon himself and screaming.

Piccolo leapt to his feet, meditation broken, and stumbled for a moment when the scream still split the air. Confusion clouded his mind and until Gandalf ran past him he thought he had only stepped into his trance.

Lying on the ground some feet away, Pippin knelt with fists pressed to his eyes, a shrill, nearly hysterical scream ripping from his lungs. Gandalf knelt by him, anger evident in his face as he covered the orb with his cloak and shook Pippin until the boy stopped his crying.

"What have you done?" Gandalf growled, wanting to shake the Hobbit again.

"I'm s-sorry. Please..." Pippin sobbed, palms still welded to his eyes.

Gandalf sighed, "Calm yourself, little one. Tell me what you've told Sauron."

"Sauron?" Merry breathed, eyes wide as he looked down at his cousin.

Piccolo stepped forward, resting a large hand on Merry's curly head and moving him away to give Gandalf time with Pippin.

"Come on, kid." Piccolo motioned to a fire a ways off and drew the reluctant Merry with him.

"But, Pippin..." Merry looked over his shoulder.

"Pippin has his own trouble right now." Piccolo glanced from the shivering Hobbit curled into the earth and then back to the wide worried eyes of Merry. "And we'll have our own to deal with soon enough."

Merry nodded absently, not truly hearing Piccolo or his words of eerie foresight. He followed obediently and sat heavily, never once turning his head from his sobbing cousin. Only when Gandalf paled and a shadow passed across the moon did he bother to look elsewhere in fear, but when his eyes searched for Pippin again, the young Hobbit was not on his roll but running as fast as his short legs could carry him as he trailed after Gandalf.

"Pippin!" Merry stood, a great icy claw had gripped his heart and he suddenly found a thick lump in his throat that would not go away no matter how many times he swallowed. Merry took a great lunge to go after him, but a large jade hand covered the whole of his chest and held him steadfast where he stood.

"Let me go! Pippin!" Merry cried, eyes welling with tears.

"Meriodoc, stay." One of Elrond's sons dropped to his knees before the Hobbit. Merry could not tell which it was through the haze of his eyes but he did see the sorrow and determination etched along the elf's features.

Anger flared in Merry, he knew, knew, that Pippin was in trouble! He was supposed to watch after him! Pippin was the youngest, he was Merry's responsibility, he couldn't just let the Hobbit go off on his own now. He couldn't turn his back on Pippin, not when he needed him the most.

"No! Let go!" Merry fumed as angry, hot tears streamed his cheeks.

A low growl and twitching of the thick alien fingers still holding him back made him almost regret what he had said. But now he could see Gandalf talking quickly to Theoden, and Pippin was trembling at the wizard's side. Merry struggled again futilely.

"Merry." Piccolo spoke quietly, his voice rumbling just behind the angry Hobbit. "He has to go alone."

Merry hiccoughed and let out a painful sob. He nodded his head harshly and scrubbed at his eyes with the backs of his hands. Suddenly, the support that held him was gone and Merry stumbled forward a step. He turned his head and saw Piccolo watching him with cool ebony eyes. "Go on." Piccolo's voice was low with a warning in his tone.

Torn between hugging the alien and running toward Pippin, Merry chose the only choice worth his energy and ran.

"Pippin!" Merry's legs ached, his lungs burned, his eyes were blurry. "Pippin!"

They hadn't left yet, he could see Shadowfax with a Hobbit-sized bundle nestled at the front of the seated wizard. They still weren't moving, Gandalf was telling last minute instructions to Eomer so he still had time. If only his legs would hold on.

"Merry!" Pippin's large blue eyes were panicked but a flood of relief hit him hard enough to make him feel like crying.

"Pippin!" Merry slowed, stopping beside the horse and gripped Pippin's calf. "What have you done?"

The relief on Pippin's face melted and the tears he felt in his stomach pooled in his eyes. "What?"

"What have you done?" Merry's voice cracked and another hot tear fell down his face. "You have to go. Go far away, Pippin. Don't you understand?"

The smaller Hobbit withdrew into himself, shaking his head. "But...but aren't you coming, Merry? You can't leave me!" Pippin reached down for him but Merry backed away.

"I can't!" Merry bellowed. "You have to go. Alone." More subdued, resigned to his cousin's fate and hating every excruciating second of it.

"Merry?" Pippin's heart wrenched. He'd never been rejected by Merry, never. And now, scared beyond death itself, he needed him the most.

Gandalf moved and curled an arm around Pippin's waist. "Go Shadowfax, with winged feet. We need to fly."

Pippin struggled, he couldn't do this. This was all a dream. No, a nightmare. He turned, stretching his arms as far as they could to reach out for Merry, wanting only to be pulled down and protected by him like after every other nightmare. But Merry didn't reach back for him, not this time. Instead a look of hurt and betrayal and eerie calm played on his face and Pippin felt his heart seize.

"Merry?"

Shadowfax began to move.

"Merry?!"

And fast they flew while Pippin felt the tears spill onto his face.

"Merry!"

And before the horse turned so he could no longer see, Pippin watched with sobs racking his body as Merry tore off after him, the anger on his face gone and only worry and love there where it had always been.

Behind him, he felt Gandalf sigh and knew the wizard was upset with him, with his emotions. But at that moment in his grief Pippin didn't care.

Merry ran, his legs wobbly from their earlier sprint and lungs already burning with fatigue. He fell to his knees and cradled his head in his hands. "Oy, Pip." He sobbed.

He climbed to unsteady feet and hobbled his way as quickly as he could back to the fire. He stumbled over a stone and fell to his hands and knees at Piccolo's feet. The alien was startled and picked him up to set him on his feet, but Merry latched onto his forearms with his small hands.

"Please, Mr. Piccolo. You have to go with him." Merry blinked large, teary eyes at him.

Piccolo frowned. "Look, Merry--"

"Please!" Merry was desperate. "Someone has to look after him, he's libel to get into trouble. And I don't know what I'd do if...if..."

Piccolo sighed heavily; eyes twitching from Merry's tear stained face then toward the darkening outline of Shadowfax in the distance.

A voice so quiet and saddened it struck him to the bone spoke softly. "Please..."

Gazing down at the Hobbit, Piccolo fell forward into the boy's eyes and was suddenly looking at the weeping face of Gohan as the boy asked to stay with him, only one night. It had been a week after Goku had decided not to return to earth and Gohan had snuck out after dark. Piccolo had told him no immediately. But then those dark eyes, so stricken...

"Alright." Piccolo closed his eyes for several seconds and sighed softly through his nose. He opened them again as Merry released his arms and hugged him at the waist as tight as his Hobbit arms could squeeze.

Piccolo looked over the boy to the two elves that smiled softly at them. "Will you watch him?"

Both nodded. Elladan stepped foreward and pried the curly headed hobbit from him. "Of course."

Walking quickly toward the nearly impossible outline of Shadowfax, the image seen only by the sharp eyes of Piccolo and the elves, he paused. "Be careful." He leveled an eye at them and grinned slightly, a tilting at one corner of his lips. "Trunks will be upset if you get hurt while I'm gone."

They laughed lightly together, a sound of clean water on smooth pebbles. For a moment, Piccolo felt his stomach turn with a sudden flash of Legolas' face in his mind, but as quick as it came it was gone. He nodded at them and turned, running off into the night as fast as he dared.

Merry watched him go with calm face and body until the alien was swallowed by the darkness. For the second time he felt his legs go weak and he fell to the earth and wept.

He sat hunched in on himself a time before strong arms picked him up and moved him closer to the fire where he sat tucked in the crook of someone's lap. When he quieted enough to look up, Elladan smiled sadly down at him. Merry blushed, even in his sorrow.

Merry stood from the elf's lap and shuffled a few feet away, rubbing feeling back into his numb face. When he finally felt settled enough emotionally to face the others he turned and sat gingerly beside the fire. He drew his knees to his chest and ignored the bustle of the men around them. Apparently Pippin and Gandalf weren't the only ones in the need of haste.

--

Goku walked quietly beside Vegeta. The whole group were drawing closer to a deep cave entrance where no light seemed to penetrate. As Goku stared into it, trying to see something in the depths, a cold shiver ran down his spine.

Vegeta looked up at him oddly. "What is it, Kakkarot?"

Not taking his eyes from the nearing entrance, Goku shook his head. "I'm not sure. But something evil is in there, Vegeta. Something that doesn't want us there."

"Hnn." Vegeta turned his eyes to the cave and raised his chin in silent defiance. He trusted Goku's instincts more than he cared to admit. Of course, he didn't have to let Goku know that.

The troop slowed to a stop within close range of the cavern. The horses knickered and rolled their eyes as they sensed something amiss. Goku didn't blame them.

"The passage of the dead." Aragorn spoke more to himself than the others.

Gimli's eyes widened and he stared into the depths of dark. "Why would any man go this way?"

Aragorn turned to him, "It is the quickest route to Gondor. Besides, I have a debt to call upon."

Skepticism crossed the dwarf's face. "If your debt is with a dead man, I would think you'd let it be."

Behind him, Legolas grinned. "Scared of the dark, dwarf?"

An indignant harrumph sounded from Gimli's throat. "Watch what you say elf. I live underground. What a foolish notion. Scared of the dark..." But even with a steady voice, the pensive look on his face belied his words.

"Come. We'd best move along. We have much ground to cover and very little time to do it." Aragorn motioned the entrance and with one last look at those behind him, he disappeared into the dark.

Legolas followed the ranger with little less than a paused step and Trunks followed in after, right hand curled around the hilt of his sword.

Vegeta watched as Goku simply stared into the darkness, eyes hard and face unreadable. Gimli stood by the entrance shuffling his feet, unnerved. He glanced back to the remaining saiyajin and sighed. "It can't be said I have ever been afraid of the underground. But this..." He motioned feebly in the direction the others had gone.

Goku stepped forward and raised a palm to the entry, fingers playing over the open air where the darkness started as though a door sat under his palm. "I know what you mean, Gimli. I don't like it either."

The dwarf nodded, rather appeased at his weakness now that someone as strong as the foreigner admitted to his own dislike of the crater. Drawing a deep breath, he stepped into the darkness and hurried after the others.

"Well, Kakkarot?" Vegeta stood with arms crossed over his chest.

Goku sighed and straightened his shoulders. "Yea..."

He walked forward until his body was flush with the dark before turning his head and looking down at Vegeta. "I really don't like it." He whispered.

Vegeta's eye twitched. He really didn't like the look on Goku's face, nor the childlike fear that radiated off of the man as he stood in the entrance. The prince stepped forward and nodded at the younger. "Come on, Kakkarot. I'll be right beside you."

A small smile curled at Goku's face until he looked into the dark, then it fell away again. With a deep breath much like Gimli's, Goku and Vegeta stepped forward into the suffocating darkness together.

The first few steps were hesitant for the tallest saiyajin. He kept waiting for something in the darkness to stretch and swell, come crashing through them all and suffocate them. The further he went, he hoped his fear would diminish as nothing happened. Unfortunately, it stayed under his skin and festered there.

Goku's stride increased until he nearly bowled over Trunks as he caught up to the others.

"Easy, Goku!" Trunks frowned as he stumbled. He turned his head and squinted up at the worried face of his friend. "You okay?"

"Huh?" Goku blinked, eyes finally focusing on Trunks' face nearly a minute later.

Trunks turned to his father. "Dad, what's wrong with Goku?"

Vegeta sighed. "I don't know. Something about the darkness." The saiyajin prince looked up at Goku, the other saiyajin had withdrawn back into himself and was currently staring into the darkness again. He hadn't heard what either of them had said.

"The man is right." Gimli grumbled. "I know caves. But in this cave there is something sinister in the air." The dwarf cracked his knuckles and curled his meaty hand around the handle of his axe.

A snort of laughter followed. "You are only paranoid, dwarf." Legolas grinned.

"No." Goku spoke, his voice stern.

Legolas stopped smiling and the others glanced back at the saiyajin.

"There is something here. And they aren't happy to feel us intruding." Goku dropped his chin to his chest and peered out through lidded eyes. Vegeta shivered as his pupils caught minute light from somewhere and glowed a deep crimson.

"You've been to otherworld dozens of times, Kakkarot. Why is this different?" Vegeta gave him a puzzled look.

Goku blinked and the red glow dissappeared. "I'm not sure, 'Geta."

They walked along in silence for a stretch of time, each of them a little more unnerved the further they went. Finally after nearly ten minutes Aragorn spoke over his shoulder. "He is right. There are ghosts here of men who cannot rest."

Vegeta nearly smirked. Kakkarot was always right.

"Ghosts." Trunks didn't sound convinced.

Aragorn paused and took a swig from his flask. "Aye. Ghosts." He smiled lightly at the unsure look he still got from the demi. "Do not worry, you will see soon enough."

Mirai frowned and tightened his hold on his sword.

Oddly enough, Goku looked rather appeased with the information. As long as he knew what he was dealing with, he didn't have to dwell on them. He smiled at Vegeta with just his lips and sighed heavily. The ouji gave him a funny look and shook his head. He just didn't understand the way Goku's mind worked most of the time.


	27. Elfin Bedtime Habits and Icejin Lords

Piccolo caught up with Gandalf quickly, the wind blowing in his face feeling thick with coming rain. As he approached the side of Shadowfax, Gandalf stiffened in surprise. He could see Pippin balled up and balanced carefully on the horses back, completely asleep.

"Master Namek," He called over the whistling of the wind. "What are you doing?"

"Merry asked me to come." Piccolo stated, face expressionless.

"And do you always do what is asked of you?" Gandalf smirked, sounding a little exhaspirated.

Piccolo frowned. "Only when it's important."

Gandalf seemed to mull over what he had said and nodded absently. He gave the Namek a genuine smile. "Why am I not surprised?"

Communication was difficult from the wind and so they quieted and only moved along. The earth passed beneath them in a flurry of movement. Hills, valleys, grass fields and forests moving beyond in a blur. Far to the north the great forests of Fangorn passed, the twinkling eyes of the Ents blinking at them.

Piccolo furrowed his brow in thought. "Where are we going?"

Pippin woke from his slumber and wobbled with the movement of the horse before burying his small hands into the flowing white mane. His eyes widened in surprise as he saw Piccolo running beside them, a light green blur at his back where his movement was nearing too fast for the eye to follow. "Piccolo?!"

The Namek nodded at him and looked expectantly at Gandalf. The wizard regarded Pippin a moment before turning his head toward Piccolo.

"Minas Tirith."

Piccolo nodded, knowing not where it was but at least had a destination point in mind.

"Piccolo, what are you doing here?" Pippin asked again, mind reeling with reasons why.

"Merry asked me to." Piccolo grinned slightly and it was made more genuine as Pippin broke out in a large grin pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes to keep from crying again.

"Did he?" Pippin's voice was barely a whisper on the howling wind but Piccolo's keen hearing heard it as though he had shouted it at him. He nodded once and Pippin grinned again before settling carefully and closing his eyes before drifting off into a happier sleep.

"You are nothing but a gentle soul wrapped in a hard exterior, Master Namek." Gandalf smiled softly at him.

Piccolo snorted and shook his head. He wouldn't have used the word gentle, personally. More like the term reformed. It was a sad state to be so easily manipulated by innocence. The best thing about, however, is that those that are innocent never use their strength for ill will.

Grinning at the sleeping Hobbit nested again in Gandalf's arms, Piccolo thought again of Gohan and felt a great wave of nastalgia nearly made him stumble. How long had it been since he had seen the demi. Six weeks...eight?

In all honesty, he had gone longer lengths of time before seeing Gohan now that the man had a family. But here, he would never have a chance to. Not really. The kid was his first friend, the first to show him love and teach him how to. He was his own son, blood didn't matter. Piccolo knew that Goku understood how he saw Gohan, and he was grateful that the saiyajin had not gotten upset or demanded he leave the boy be. But that in itself was a ridiculous thought. Goku was a compassionate soul, and his sons were just like him.

Gandalf watched as Piccolo's face closed off and his eyes were trained on something only the Namek could see. He smiled sadly to himself and whispered into Shadowfax's ears. "Steady on, boy."

Clouds filled the sky and moments later the first fat, icy drops of rain fell. Piccolo remained distant for the next quarter hour, lost in his own memories. When he finally came around, Gandalf held a skin of water out to him. He took a grateful swallow and only then realized that he was soaked to the skin and his feet were slipping through mud.

--

Bulma paced tiredly in her room. Seven steps to the couch, turn. Twelve steps to the fireplace, turn. Ten steps to the bed, turn. Twelve steps to the door, stop. She placed her hand on the knob, fretful to find something to do to pass the time. She shook her head and dropped her hand back to her side like she had done at least a dozen times already. Seven steps to the couch...

A soft knock came to her door nearly ten minutes later and she nearly lept for joy at the reprieve. Bulma bounded over to it, twenty-three times around her circle, and pulled the door open with a flourish.

The Lady Arwen stood outside it and opened her eyes in surprise before smiling at the overjoyed Bulma.

"Arwen, come in, please!" Bulma backed from the entry and motioned her in. "What can I do for you? Would you like some wine? Fruit?"

Arwen laughed as she sat comfortably on the couch, seven steps away, and shook her head at the offer for food and drink. "Actually, Lady Bulma, you have seemed rather distracted. I was wondering if you might need to talk."

Bulma sighed overdramatically and flopped ungracefully onto the couch beside Arwen. "That would be great."

Arwen smiled lightly and nodded, motioning to Bulma to speak her mind.

"Well I'm worried." Bulma rubbed at her face with the palm of one hand. "I haven't heard from Goku or Vegeta for weeks. I mean, how do I know that they aren't hurt or dead? I don't even know if Trunks' inhaler even worked on them!"

"Have faith." Arwen took one of Bulma's hands in her own. "I poldore mine indo tanwe mii paldore i limbe ya mel iimen."

A small smile hovered on Bulma's lips. She didn't understand a word Arwen had said after 'faith', but everything always sounded so important and beautiful in quenya.

Another soft laugh tumbled from Arwen's lips. "I said, the strength of one heart is made in the strength of the many who love them." She squeezed Bulma's hand. "There is much love and faith granted to your friends, from you and your son, from those you've left behind...and from those here who have met them."

Bulma smiled wide. "Goku has that effect on people." She looked thoughtful for a moment then laughed. "Not really Vegeta and Piccolo though. They're more of a required taste."

"They are withdrawn, I will grant you that." Arwen smiled, blue eyes sparkling. "Have you talked to my father, yet?"

Bulma stiffened in surprise. "He's back already?"

"Yes. He arrived an hour ago. The last I knew he was headed for his chambers to rest. I'm sure he would enjoy some relaxing company." A playful smile tugged at Arwen's lips. Bulma didn't notice.

"Oh! I wonder if he saw Goku!" Bulma practically ran to the door (only five steps at that angle). She stopped in the entry and turned back to Arwen, mildly embarrassed. "I'm sorry. What am I doing, running out on you like this?"

Arwen stood and held up a hand. "On the contrary. Go. Ada will have more information for you than I will."

Bulma nodded and smiled gratefully as she took off down the hall, picking up her skirts and practically running by the time she reached Elrond's chambers.

Pausing a moment to catch her breath, Bulma knocked and waited. Several minutes passed, and confused, Bulma knocked again a little harder. There was no immediate answer and Bulma mulled over her options. She could return to her room and pace again, maybe fall asleep and then track down Elrond in the morning. Or...

Bulma opened the door quietly, just in case the elf was already asleep. The room was lit softly and for a moment Bulma felt guilty, the elf Lord probably was sleeping, and rightfully so with all of the distance he had travelled so quickly. Instead of leaving, however, Bulma only walked further in, trying to be as quiet as possible.

The door behind her clicked shut softly at her insistance and she padded on tiptoe toward the curtained bed. The gossimar blinds were drawn and Bulma breathlessly pulled them to the side and peeked inside. A bulge sat in the middle and she mentally berated herself for coming. But since she was already here...

"Elrond." No more than a whisper. The bundle didn't move. "Elrond." A little harsher this time but no louder than the whisper before. Bulma reached out and frowned. Elrond would have to have one of the largest beds she had ever seen. Her reach barely made it half way to where he lay, and he was in the middle! Carefully, Bulma put a knee on the matress and leaned over as far as she dared without falling over. Her hand just brushed the lump on the bed and she hissed. "Elrond!"

With a little more frustration and a little less balance, Bulma fell face first into the thick down comforter. She sat up startled, heart beating in her chest and face heating with color. She turned to see if Elrond was going to yell at her and nearly growled. Two pillows lay tucked beneath the blanket. That would explain why the bump did not respond.

Sighing in frustration, Bulma crossed her arms over her chest and thought for a minute. If the Lord wasn't in bed then where would he go to relax?

As though in answer to her question a door she had not seen across the room clicked open and a wave of steam billowed out. Bulma gaped and then covered her mouth with a hand and hunkered low on the bed. Her face glowed hot. There was no way to get out of this situation without being horribly embarrassed. There she was sitting in the middle of his bed while he was stepping out of the bath!

True to form, Lord Elrond emerged a second later with a bathing robe over his shoulders and a plush towl in hand. Bulma didn't dare to breathe.

Elrond sat on a stuffed ottoman and flipped the length of his raven hair over his shoulder and began to squeeze the excess water from it with the white towel. Bulma pushed the curtain to the side and quickly slid it back again.

She didn't dare look, only closed her eyes tightly and turned her head away. This couldn't be happening. The sound of wet cloth falling to the floor nearly made her flinch, but her curiosity got the better of her before she could stop and she found herself peeking around the curtains again.

The towel was on the floor, and a crimson robe had been dropped beside it. A small 'eep' escaped Bulma's mouth before she could stop it. She suddenly saw Elrond stiffen where he stood in front of a hutch. Thankfully the elf had already pulled on a pair of flowing pajama bottoms or Bulma would have fainted dead away.

She was thinking of doing just that anyway.

Elrond's eyes flashed and he immediately stalked toward his bed and threw the curtain aside. His face softened and he sighed deeply when he saw it was only Bulma. Then he frowned and cocked his head to the side. "Lady Bulma, what are you doing?"

Bulma sat gapping like a fish. She tried, absolutely tried, to look Elrond in the face--it was such a nice face after all...but sweet Kami so wasn't the rest of him. Elrond bent until his face was level with hers and notice how flushed the woman looked. "Are you feeling well?"

Bulma blinked and nodded vigorously. "Y-yes. Yes of course."

Still frowning, Elrond straightened and crossed his arms over his chest. Bulma thought that was an aweful thing to do really, obstructing a good view like that, and blushed harder. "I'm glad. Now what are you doing on my bed?" Elrond arched an eyebrow.

Pointing to the pillows behind her still lumped under the blanket, she spoke. "The pillows were you. I mean, I thought of you..." Bulma stopped and shook her head, she decided to try another tactic. "How is Goku?"

Elrond nodded. "I only saw him in passing, but he is well."

Forgetting her discomfort Bulma puffed her cheeks and frowned. "Only saw him?"

"I am sorry, but I had important business to tend to. I did make sure to peek in on them, and my sons." Elrond smiled lightly and sat next to Bulma at the edge of the bed. "They appeared in well enough spirits if that makes you feel any better."

Bulma nodded. "Sure. Just like them to be off waiting to get themselves killed and having a grand old time!"

Elrond smirked, waiting for a raving that was sure to be coming. He was not left waiting.

"They do this every time! You'd think they were robots that just walked around waiting, just waiting, for enemies to start dropping from the sky!" Bulma turned toward him. "All you men are all the same, just running off and not thinking twice about the people you leave behind!" Before she realized what she was doing, Bulma was poking Elrond in the chest with her finger.

The elfin Lord looked down at the abusive digit and then up at Bulma again with a brow quirked. "Lady Bulma, in case you haven't noticed..." Elrond made a dramatic pause and Bulma blushed as she realized what she was doing. She opened her mouth to apologize just as Elrond finished his sentence. "...I am not a man."

Mouth clicking shut, Bulma thought on that a moment. It was true, he was an elf. Granted he was built like a man--at least all the parts she had seen--but she had classified him as another one of the infuriating people she had known since the age of 13 when she met Goku for the first time.

After a moment, Bulma smiled. "True."

They sat in silence, side by side on his large plush bed. Bulma trying not to eye him in any obvious way since it was too much to ask not to. The elf was sitting naked from the waist up! Elrond chose to ignore it and only kept the small smirk on his lips.

"Well." Bulma spoke quite suddenly as she stood up. "As highly embarrassing as this has been I think I should leave you alone." She laughed but it was more of a nervous twitter. Elrond stood as well and followed her to the door.

"Good night, Elrond."

Elrond nodded his head and grasped hold of her hand before she could retreat and pulled her bodily to him. He kissed her softly and let her go. "Good night, Lady Bulma." And he shut the door quietly.

Bulma stood in the hall staring at his oaken door for a dazed minute. She shook her head and grinned, another blush creeping into her cheeks. She was going to have some rather pleasant dreams tonight, that was for certain.

Elrond stood with a shoulder to the door and listened to her footsteps retreat in the hall. He shook his head at his own boldness and moved toward his slightly rumpled bed. He arranged the covers and slipped beneath them.

As he lay his head on the pillow he could smell Bulma's perfume lightly on the cloth and grinned into the dark. He was going to have some rather pleasant dreams tonight, that was for certain.

--

Freeza was currently walking along the filth covered roadways in Mordor. All though the creatures had at first sneered at him, it didn't take long after the first several dozen were killed with only the icejin's finger for the others to quickly fall into rank. Of course, their leader and master was Lord Sauron. However, as creatures of darkness, they had a keen pension for those with greater power, and even though Sauron was still absolutely their master and keeper, Freeza was the first great apparition of evil and strength to show them what greatness meant.

Zarbon, for his part, detested the whole lot of them. While Freeza grinned maliciously at the troops that passed, Zarbon curled up his lip in distaste and had already ripped the arms from some of the more agressive Urak-hai that thought he would make a pretty keepsake.

He felt filthy, which normally he could stand for any length of time were it remains of enemies smeared across his face and clothing. At least then it was a testiment of honor and strength. This time around, it was only thick ash, mud and any number of excriments that dripped, slopped and splashed onto him. Freeza hadn't allowed him to kill the orc simply because they were revolting. This had only incensed Zarbon further and he hated the blundering creatures all the more for it.

"My Lord, how much longer will we stay among these vermin?" Zarbon frowned as he stepped in a rather soft spot of earth that looked uncannily like feces.

Freeza sighed, "When I am good and ready, Zarbon. Not a moment before." He growled as the blue alien sighed overdramatically. "Don't you dare throw a tantrum, Zarbon, or I'll drop you into a pit of them to fondle all they like."

Zarbon shivered in revoltion then pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. "Of course, Lord Freeza."

"Look, if you hate it so much, go do something over there," Freeza pointed at a cliffside, not paying attention to where he pointed as he was still watching the Urak-hai.

Opening his mouth to protest, a movement in the shadows on the cliff face and a faint pinpoint of light made him close it and mull over his lord's request. "Of course, My Lord."

Freeza only snorted as the blue alien left, he was more thankful for the reprieve from his incessant whining than he had ever thought possible.

Zarbon moved slowly toward the shift of shadow, keeping himself at a fair distance and training his golden eyes along the crags. He saw a bundle move and landed in a depression above it and tilted his head to listen as it passed.

"It's alright, Mr. Frodo, just don't look down."

That voice...it was familiar.

"I'm not afraid of the height, Sam, just the fall." A sound of soft laughter following.

Zarbon's eyes lit up. It was the two children from earlier, but what were they doing here? Surely they didn't fit in with the creatures below, but then again they were rather filthy...

Just after the two moved carefully across a narrow strip of ledge, Zarbon floated beside them in the darkness. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?" His smirk turned into an evil grin as he saw the look of recognition on their small faces.

"Go away!" Sam stepped forward and stopped at the edge. He was already shaking in rage, Zarbon noticed. He laughed at the Hobbit's antics.

"And if I refuse?" Zarbon smiled sweetly, ruined slightly by the viciously pointed teeth that filled his mouth.

"Please. We have done nothing to you, and we have nothing you could possibly want." Frodo pleaded.

Zarbon noticed the great weary look in the boy's blue eyes. They were not even close to looking that old and tired when he had met them only days ago. "Done nothing to me...perhaps you are right. But having nothing I could want..." Zarbon trailed off, eyes flicking to the chain he could just make out around the Hobbit's neck.

Automatically Frodo reached a hand to his chest and curled his fingers around what lay inside the folds of his shirt. "No..."

"Oh, yes." Zarbon smiled again, moving closer to the two and resting a hand on either side of the petrified Frodo, pinning the boy in place.

"You leave him be!" Sam cried, drawing his dagger again and swinging with all of his Hobbit might.

A flash of color and movement that neither Hobbit could follow and Zarbon held the tip of the sword in the palm of one hand. The look on his face was one of great anger. "I told you once, cretin, that toy of yours will do you no good."

Sam trembled but held strong. Zarbon sneered, closing a fist around the front of Frodo's robes so that he could not escape, and closed his fist around the blade and squeezed. A sharp cracking and glint of the sword blade in the dim lighting before shards of Sting began to rain at their feet. Sam was left holding the hilt with only a jagged hunk of metal at it's end.

Frodo clenched his eyes shut and felt his knees go weak. Never had he seen something so strong, so eerie, so powerful. The blade didn't even nick the creatures skin!

"Now, about my present." Zarbon tittered gleefully, turning his full attention back to Frodo and ignoring the gaping Samwise.

"You don't understand, you can't take it!" Frodo moaned.

"Can't?" Zarbon feigned shock. "We'll just have to show you otherwise won't we?" The fist at Frodo's chest tightened and the Hobbit felt a wave of cold fear flood him.

"Zarbon!" A high pitched voice called. It didn't sound very pleased.

Golden eyes clenched shut and a blue face turned slowly. "Yes, Lord Freeza?"

"Get your blue butt down here this instant!" The white icejin lord had one hand on his hip and the other pointing viciously at the ground.

"Of course." Zarbon turned away, grinning as he began to tear the Hobbit's clothing.

"Now!" Freeza demanded. "Leave that thing alone!"

Zarbon released Frodo with a deep growl and spun until he faced his Lord. The look of complete irritation was stretched across Freeza's face and Zarbon capped his anger and floated down to meet him.

Sam grasped Frodo by the shirt sleeve and shook him lightly. "Come, Mr. Frodo! Before he comes back!" Frodo shook his curly head and stared down at the descending figure before shuffling quickly after Sam.

"Yes, Lord Freeza?" Zarbon asked, eyes turned carefully to the ground.

"Now that you're done playing, I have something I want you to hear." Freeza turned and stalked toward a trembling orc.

Zarbon followed, keeping out of the things reach as he stopped. Freeza grasped it by the chin and made it look at him. "Tell Zarbon exactly what you've told me."

"A battle...at Gondor. That is where the humans are making their stand." The thing whimpered.

Freeza grinned at Zarbon. "Where there are pathetic humans in need of assistance, there will be monkeys."

Zarbon's eye lit again. Where there were saiayjins would be their final death, and their death would mean returning home, which in turn meant getting away from this filth and to a nice hot bath. Suddenly, Zarbon frowned and Freeza growled.

"What is it?"

"My Lord, the saiyajins. They aren't there." Zarbon spoke evenly. He had only acquired his use of ki reading, so he may be wrong but it felt like the monkeys were headed in a different direction...and the namek was not with them.

Freeza frowned and faced into the darkness, his face pensive. "You are right." Zarbon let out a silent breath of relief. "You trail the Namek. When you've finished with him, come back here and we will face the monkey prince just as these baffoons march off to war."

Zarbon nodded, not entirely thrilled at having to kill the slug of a Namek, but at least he would be away from this diseased pool. "As you command, My Lord."

He was airborne and gone again within moments, passing over the two Hobbits that still amazingly remained hidden from the orc. He felt around for Piccolo's ki and felt it moving steadily and fast. Zarbon grinned. If the fool was headed toward him, then he could take a moment to freshen up at the nearest clean pool of water to be found.


	28. Greetings Faramir & Darkness darkness

The rain had stopped by the time dawn decided to grace them with its presense. Piccolo was exhausted though it did not show on his face or his performance. He hadn't pulled a full nights run for at least a long decade. With a mental smirk he figured he would at least gain something from the exercise even if it wasn't a full nights meditation.

Beside him, Shadowfax was huffing great lungfulls of breath that misted the air. He could imagine how the horse must feel, at least partly. He wasn't carrying a wizard and slumbering Hobbit, after all.

In the distance a great crumbling ruin was making itself known through the fog. Minas Tirith didn't look half as impressive as its name had implied.

Piccolo looked over to Gandalf to make sure it was indeed their destination and saw the look of worry and thought on his face and knew it was. It, just like every other place, was being worn under the heavy weight of war.

As they approached, a small band of warriors hollered from the crumbling towers and several riders made their hasty way toward them with weapons drawn. Piccolo frowned and wondered if this was the typical reaction of all men on Middle Earth. It had seemed so this far.

"Who goes there?" A strong voice called.

"Gandalf and friends." The wizard responded. His voice carried strong and clear as though he was not speaking against the wind and distance.

The lead horse suddenly slowed to a stop and those behind followed suit. By the time the trio had made it to them, most of the drawn weapons had been restored to their sheaths and holsters alike.

The leader turned his horse before Gandalf could stop and as a group--and without a word--they moved through the entry and into Minas Tirith.

Gandalf quickly dismounted and rubbed down Shadowfax with a handful of straw as the horse strained to quiet itself. "Wipe him down well and give him the best feed and water you have. He has done a great feat during the night and deserves a well rest."

A stable hand nodded and, a little exaspirated at not having a reign to guide the horse with, motioned it to follow him and was surprised when the horse did just that.

Pippin stood on his own two feet and stared with wide eyes around him.

"Another halfling!" A voice filled with awe spoke softly. Pippin's head whipped around and he looked excitedly up into a scruffy and weary face.

"Another halfling? Then you've seen others?" The boy's eyes were wide with hope.

The man nodded his head. "Aye, two of them. One with a great burden."

"Frodo and Sam?" Pippin's heart squeezed in joy and sadness.

"Yes, I believe that is what they called themselves. You know them?" The man asked, eyes curious as he took in the bubbling Hobbit in front of him.

"Yes, my God, yes!" Pippin, so overjoyed, hugged the man at his waist and wept happy tears into his tunic.

Before the man could grow embarrassed or ask someone else what was going on, Pippin released him and flew to Piccolo and bounced around the Namek with a swatch of Piccolo's violet tunic clutched in his small fist. "Did you hear? Sam and Frodo are alive!"

Piccolo couldn't help but grin at the boy's enthusiasm. "Yes, I heard."

"Well, isn't that great news?" Pippin demanded, as though he expected Piccolo to jump and dance around with him.

A low rumble of laughter came from the Namek and several men around them stiffened while reaching automatically for their swords. Piccolo ignored them. "It is good news. It's a pity we missed them."

A bit more satisfied with Piccolo's display of mirth, Pippin nodded and smiled brightly at the man he had accousted not a moment before. "I don't suppose you would have a bite to eat?"

Gandalf frowned deeply and grasped the Hobbit by the arm. "Peregrin Took!"

Piccolo grinned at the look of confusion that crossed Pippin's face.

Surprisingly, the man laughed. "Of course, but I cannot keeping calling you 'little one' and if you walk around asking to speak to the 'man' we will get no where very quickly."

Pippin grinned and held out his hand good-naturedly. "I'm Pippin."

The man smiled and took his offered hand easily. "Faramir."

The smile fell from Pippin's face and his skin grew pale. "Faramir?"

The warrior frowned and released the Hobbit's hand. Pippin turned to Gandalf and the wizard nodded gravely to answer a question unasked. The Hobbit then turned to Piccolo, as though he needed reassuring from his reassurance.

Piccolo looked carefully at the man and carefully scanned his ki. A deep breath through his nose completed his thought. The man was Boromir's brother. Piccolo curled his lip. "He has the same smell."

Pippin took the sentence as an affirmation, Faramir however took great offence.

"Am I to assume you find my smell offensive?" Faramir challenged, eyes flashing.

Piccolo resisted a growl. He had little reservation to leave Boromir to die in the woods after attacking Frodo, and even the man's repentance by sacrificing himself to save Merry and Pippin had done little to soothe the bristling anger Piccolo felt. So far he had no quarrel with Faramir, but that could be easily remedied...

"That wasn't what I meant, but now that you mention it..." Piccolo curled his lip into a sneer, just showing the edge of one elongated eye tooth.

"Enough!" Gandalf spoke with final authority. Piccolo seethed but stepped back. Faramir looked between the two of them with a deep frown.

"I never thought you one to take on orc, Gandalf. Are we losing so badly?" Faramir growled.

Piccolo's fists clenched but Gandalf stepped forward. "He is not an orc, Faramir, but a great warrior as I have ever seen. And he did not mean offense to you," Gandalf glanced at Piccolo to make sure the Namek kept his peace, "he was only affirming that you are the brother of Boromir."

Faramir stiffened. "Boromir? You know what has happened to him?"

Gandalf shook his head slowly. "I was not there and have only heard the tale."

Pippin, all this time looking between the three with wide anxious eyes, cleared his throat. It didn't help much to remove the fog of emotion from it when he spoke. "I knew your brother."

The Lord Faramir fell to his knees in front of the Hobbit to watch the emotion on the boy's face better as he listened.

"He gave his life in protecting my own." Pippin spoke proudly.

Behind him Piccolo snorted. Faramir glanced up and frowned. "I take it you did not like my brother much."

Piccolo did not answer directly, only stared hard at the lined face of the other. "He had his failings. I only hope his brother is different."

A dark cloud passed over Faramir's face and a pain that went far beyond Piccolo's jibe hardened his eyes. He stood and failed at squaring his slouched shoulders. He stared hard into Piccolo's onyx eyes. "He is." The words a harsh and bitter whisper.

After a tense moment, Faramir motioned a couple of his men over. "Take them to the inn, get them food and beds." His voice was weary and sounded hollow.

He turned to Gandalf, "Perhaps we should talk, Gandalf. There is much written on your face." Faramir didn't sound enthusiastic but more resigned.

The wizard nodded and gave Piccolo an exaspirated look before he followed the young lord to a private room.

Pippin bounded happily after the two guards and called to Piccolo. The Namek watched Faramir's retreating back and furrowed his brows. He began to rub unconsciously at the base of one antenna as he thought deeply over what he had seen.

After a span of ten minutes with many men passing around him in a wide berth, Piccolo finally grunted and followed the sound of Pippin's happy laughter toward a building with a broken and weathered wooden sign that read 'Inn'. He would have to think over the odd man later, after a good draught of cold water and deep meditation.

--

The darkness was as thick as pitch and at odd moments Goku thought it was a little harder to breathe, as though he was sucking in the oppressive air. He knew it was only in his imagination. He had never been afraid of the dark in his long life--short as it may have been spent on the earth, but all those years of being dead or training in otherworld still counted, right?--but the Godforsaken pit gave him the willies like no other.

Whenever he felt the darkness pressing in on him and he thought the last thread of his sanity was going to snap, a brush of Vegeta's shoulder against his arm brought a much needed flush of relief.

They had been walking for hours in the dark though it felt like far longer and much shorter all at once. No daylight, no moon, no stars to map the passage of time. Only the prevailing dark.

As Goku grew further on edge, the others settled into the routine of stepping one foot before the other through the cavern. The monotony of it lulling their minds of thought and only motion.

Aragorn stopped, as much as he wanted to continue on his legs ached with each step and his shrunken stomach screamed for food. Behind him, Legolas stopped as he heard the ranger pause, the others hadn't noticed and Gimli bumped head first into the elf's hip.

The dwarf cried out and gripped his axe handle with renewed vigor, the cry awakened the dormant minds of the saiyajins behind him. Trunks drawing his sword and Vegeta tensing in preparation.

It was Goku laughing that calmed everyone down. "And you guys say I'm on edge."

Gimli, realizing too late that the demon he had found was only Legolas, grumbled about foolish elves stopping without warning.

Trunks resheathed his sword with a deep sigh and Vegeta frowned so harshly into the darkness it seemed to darken further if it were even possible.

Aragorn cleared his throat. "Forgive me, I should have told you all we were stopping." Goku felt with his fingers to those in front of him, his sharp saiyajin eyes only seeing them once he had brushed his fingertips across the clothing on their backs. He made his way to Aragorn and dropped beside him on the earth, not daring to recline back against the stone wall.

"So we're taking a break then?" He asked. Partly excited to stop, partly mortified that they would have to stay in the cave longer than necessary.

"Yes, I am weary enough without putting us in danger by continuing on." Aragorn spoke softly, knowing they could all hear him without his need to raise his voice. He unbuckled his satchel and felt around until his fingers glanced over a paper of jerky and piece of lambas.

Silently he began to eat and relaxed against the cold stone wall, his aching body telling him to lay down and sleep.

Legolas and Gimli sat down as well, Gimli rummaging for his pipe and tobacco. He grumbled to himself a moment before sighing in defeat. "Does anyone have a match or flint?"

Aragorn fumbled a moment and placed two small pieces of flint in the dwarf's hand. Feeling much better already, Gimli struck them repeatedly--the small bursts of light searing into their pupils--until a small fire began to curl the first pieces of tobacco.

A harsh wind suddenly whipped though the tunnel and blew the flame out.

Goku stiffened and shivered. "They don't like the light."

A small, compact body sat heavily beside him, and Goku leaned imperceptibly onto Vegeta. The ouji was still frowning. "I don't like it when you talk like that, Kakkarot."

A shrug made Vegeta rock a little. "Sorry, 'Geta." Goku whispered.

Gimli growled then and stood, pacing back and forth. He began shouting like a raving madman into the darkness. "All I want is a smoke, devils! What kind of spirits would begrudge a dwarf of such a right?"

Legolas gripped Gimli's forearm and pulled him back onto the earth. "Patience, Gimli."

The dwarf muttered to himself incessantly for the next five minutes, and finally irritated beyond belief, Vegeta stood. "Here you blasted, dwarf!" Vegeta set his fingertip over the pipe bowl and a flicker of ki lit the whole of the tobacco quickly. Gimli puffed as fast as he could as the harsh wind blew around them but even as the flame died, the embers of the tobacco stayed lit and the dwarf settled back with merry contentment.

Vegeta dropped again beside Goku, annoyance radiating off of him in waves. Goku suddenly elbowed him. "You know, Vegeta. I don't think the wind would be able to blow out our ki."

The elder saiyajin looked at the other with an 'and your point is' kind of look and Goku grinned. "Well, maybe we can have some light that they can't blow out!"

Aragorn shifted uncomfortably beside him. "I do not know if that is such a wise idea."

Goku's enthusiasm dropped and the old fear slowly crept back in. Aragorn seemed to notice the melancholy that wrapped the saiyajin like a blanket and sighed softly. He was more afraid of the power that the saiyajin would show--afraid to be lost in the heat of it again--more than he was worried what the cavern's wind would do.

"Perhaps before we rule it out, you should try a bit first." Aragorn said.

Immediately, Goku shuffled and clapped him on the arm. Aragorn was pretty sure the saiyajin was aiming for his shoulder, but in the darkness had missed it. He smiled lightly to himself.

A flicker made them all squint and a moment later the tiniest of tiny bulbs of ki sat in Goku's palm. The light flickering off of it seemed to be that of the noon sun after so long in the darkness. Directly following the dancing light, the harsh wind blew viciously through the cavern. It was no great gust but a continuing hard blow that seemed to grow in intensity as though it realized it was having no effect on the luminescense that sat in the saiyajin's palm.

Sadly, Goku dimmed it and reabsorbed it entirely. The wind ceased its blow.

"I guess that's my answer, huh?" Goku remarked. He huddled in on himself a little and wished that the time in the cave would pass quickly. He didn't think he could take very much more of it.

--

Piccolo sat in the corner of the pub with eyes closed. Around him the hustle and bustle of military men and waitresses, the boistrous laughter after a great tale or joke, and the bubbling tone of an eating Hobbit as he talked delightedly to those around him made it nearly impossible for him to meditate. Nearly.

It was no deep meditation certainly, but to his addled mind it was never as blissful as that moment. The same eerie calm filled his mind, no thoughts or visions pushing through to be seen. In a way he was thankful, no vision meant no worry, or at least no directed worry. The fact that there was nothing at all was, in itself, something he should worry about. At this moment, however, he was far too relaxed to make himself care.

Gandalf and Faramir had finished their discussion of every event that had transpired. Faramir moved slow and sluggishly into the inn and plopped heavily onto a stool. He rested his head in an open palm and curled the other hand around a mug of ale that was set in front of him without request.

The king of Gondor returning... Faramir sneered into his drink. Sometimes he had to wonder at Gandalf's sanity. The aged wizard had been through quite an ordeal--which he had only gotten the highlights of--and that could make the sanist of men just the tiniest bit mad.

Just down the bar a few seats he could hear Pippin as the Hobbit drew the attention of several of his men. They were all listening to his tales of the Shire as though they were starved for a reprieve. He supposed they probably were having been fighting orc and urak-hai and losing badly. Not to mention the Nazgul that decided to drop in on them unexpectedly with Frodo's untimely visit.

Faramir took a large draught of his ale and watched as the foam on the top slowly dissolved down the sides. Boromir was dead and gone, a fact stated by Frodo no longer than a week ago, and now was reaffirmed by yet another halfling who had seen it all happen. He would have to talk to Pippin quietly and retrieve the whole story.

Feeling minimally better for the cool ale and introspective thinking, Faramir turned in his seat and gazed out across the people that sat in the pub with him.

Two of his best guards were nursing mugs of ale and talking quietly. He could see the wrappings and crusty edged bandages just hidden by their tunics. Wounds cleaned with murky water and stitched closed with what skeins of thread they could scrounge from the old tailor shop after it had been reduced to rubble. They had been wounded badly and he should send them to bed and rest, but they deserved to sip their ale. They were only sitting still, after all.

Most of the men of the platoon that remained had been injured in one form or another. From limbs rended from the body to scratches and bruises, and the occassional broken heart. Unfortuantely they do not let men free from their stations for heart ailments of that like, even if they could be more crippling that a blow to the head.

Finally his eyes came to rest on the stranger. He sat deep in the shadows in the corner of the bar with arms crossed over his chest and eyes closed. Faramir snorted and took another drink of his ale. He didn't particularly care for that one, the creature didn't look like one from the good side. With his dark skin, impressive size and deep gravely voice it seemed more plausible that he had crawled from the womb of Sauron himself.

But Gandalf had readily came to his credit, hadn't he? That meant the wizard had seen something he had--or could--not. So the creature hadn't enjoyed his brother's company? A great many men did not care for Boromir. Half of those that met him loved him, the other half could barely talk to him civily. A trait that had started when the two were just boys. Boromir was a great leader, strong willed, level headed and a good ambassedor for Gondor.

Oh, how Faramir hated him just as much as he loved him. It was this great confliction in himself, the man's own brother, that made him sympathize with both types of men who knew his brother.

With a grimace, Faramir realized that the creature in the corner just happened to be one of those who hated Boromir.

Draining what remained of his mug and waiting for the barmaid to refill it, Faramir watched the sleeping figure in the shadows before picking up his mug and quietly making his way to the table.

He sat down none to gently, still not liking the thing even though he was here to talk to him, but he did need to rouse him somehow. And what better way to set the mood than a rude awakening?

Surprisingly, the creature didn't even flinch, much less glare at him with sleepy eyes. Faramir sat still and simply stared at the creature up close for a moment. He had never seen a living thing with such odd coloring. Orc and Urak-hai were brown and black, covered with layers of filth and grime, and had very little hygine. This one was green, an odd shade it at that. Faramir scratched at his stubble and took another swig of ale. He couldn't think of a single thing he had ever seen the same shade. No color on middle earth came close to the jade of his skin.

A small curly haired lad moved at his elbow and Faramir smiled down at Pippin. The Hobbit smiled brightly back and looked at Piccolo then back to Faramir. "He's ignoring you, you know."

Faramir blinked, "He's asleep." He spoke as though talking to a child.

With a light laugh, Pippin shook his curly head. "No, he's just ignoring you." Pippin's soft lilt tittered.

As though to prove himself, Pippin leaned toward Piccolo and smiled wide. "Aren't you, Master Namek?"

Faramir shook his head and prepared to tell the boy that, 'no the creature was sleeping, he couldn't possibly be ignoring him' when one ebony eye cracked open and looked directly at the Hobbit.

"Your point?" Piccolo's deep bass rumbled.

Shocked and irritated, Faramir pointed at Piccolo and poked him in the chest only once. Piccolo had grasped hold of his wrist before he could even think of poking a second time, and Faramir grimaced as the namek squeezed.

Pippin's eyes widened. "Piccolo!" The Namek looked at him with a quirked eye ridge as though expecting something more. "Let him go!"

With a deep sigh, Piccolo let the man go and glowered at him. Faramir rubbed his wrist and scowled. "What's the matter with you?"

A snort answered him and Piccolo sneered. 'I'm not the one staring."

Faramir stood with a flourish, the chair he sat in tumbling over backwards. He drew his blade and had it at Piccolo's throat within a second. Piccolo could have stopped him, could have broken the man's arm and even blown him through the inn wall with a ball of ki. But he didn't...

Piccolo sat with his face blank, the knife point setting at the hollow of his throat. Faramir was seething and with each deep breath the man took the point dug a little deeper, though not yet deep enough to make Piccolo bleed.

Pippin was sheet white and trembling beside them. "Please, Faramir!" The boy's eyes were wide.

Without moving the rest of his body, Piccolo set his hand on the Hobbit's head and ruffled his curls. His eyes stayed bored into Faramir's. "Do you want to kill me?"

Faramir blinked and the haze of anger cleared from his eyes. Piccolo saw it and knew that the man's next step of action was to lower his blade. He had no intention of letting him.

As Faramir began to pull the sword back, Piccolo grasped ahold of the blade with his large hand and pulled the tip until it just pierced the topmost layer of his skin over his heart. Faramir huffed and pulled on the blade but it did less than wiggle in Piccolo's grip.

"Is this what you wanted?" Piccolo's eyes were hard pieces of flint. He pulled the edge further, metal sliding through his skin a painful inch. He didn't even flinch.

Faramir struggled, pulling hard on the sword but it still wouldn't move. Others around them were watching, eyes wide and awed at what was happening. Faramir still wasn't sure what was happening.

"No. That is not what I intended." He rasped.

Piccolo grunted, not accepting his answer. Piccolo sat slowly forward, the edge sliding deeper into his chest and he grimaced slightly as the blade tip exited his back. Faramir gasped and let go of the hilt entirely, the sword glinting lightly and growing slowly sticky as violet blood began to trickle down its length.

Standing slowly, Piccolo used his height to let the others in the room see. A great uproar started, many waited for the creature to topple dead to the stones. Piccolo turned his eyes back to Faramir and grasped the man's hand in his own. He curled Faramir's flacid fingers around the hilt and pulled the blade slowly from his girth.

When the blade was completely free from its emerald sheath, Faramir let it go and it dropped to the floor with a piercing ring. Piccolo covered the wound of his chest with his palm and brought it away covered in violet blood.

"You should not start what you don't intend to finish." Piccolo spoke softly with his 'teaching Gohan a lesson' voice. He pulled the cloth of his tunic to the side and let Faramir stare at the gaping wound for a second before he continued. "I have no quarrel with you Faramir, and I will not kill you because you are an ally. But that doesn't mean I have to like you."

To Faramir's great amazement he watched as the wound puckered and pulled closed. With a final wipe with the back of his hand, the smears of purple were gone and only flawless jade skin lay beneath.

"I did not...how?" Faramir sat heavily in a nearby chair, watching Piccolo warily.

"You're frustrated, I know." Piccolo sat, speaking still with his scolding/teaching tone.

Faramir nodded, running a shaking hand down his grey tinted face.

"Piccolo?" Pippin was still staring at him with large eyes and pale face. The Namek turned toward him and frowned as the Hobbit stood and visibly shook.

"Are you alright, Pippin?" He asked, face softened. He bent and touched the boy's forehead. Faramir watched the exchange with an odd expression. First the creature showed an irrational anger and urge of self destruction, and now he was sitting with worry in his eyes and being undeniably tender. The Gondorian was confused at the dual faces that were so contradictory.

The Hobbit sniffled quietly and touched the spot on Piccolo's chest where the blade had injured him. His eyes were large. "I thought you were dead just now." Pippin's voice was very quiet.

Piccolo sighed through his nose and picked the Hobbit up by the waist and set him on the table so that they were closer to eye level. He grinned at Pippin and touched the spot on his chest. "There are a few things you have missed by wandering around on your own."

Pippin laughed, mostly to break the rest of the tension that gripped him. "Apparently I have."

"Watch this." Piccolo opened his palm and slowly pushed his ki to the surface. The first flickers of light began to show on his skin and he saw Pippin's eyes widen in surprise and delight.

The Hobbit held out his own hand and tried to touch the light only to stop before he even got within half a foot. The heat that radiated from it saw to that. "What is it?" Pippin asked, a large grin plastered to his face. Beside them Faramir nodded.

"This is some sorcery." He spoke quietly.

Piccolo shook his head. "No magic." He pointed at a chunk of rubble that lay outside the door and across the street. "Do you see that rock?" Pippin nodded. Piccolo looked to Faramir. "Would you make sure no one is going to get in the way?"

Faramir gave the creature a queer look but did as he asked and stood outside the doorway of the inn and made a couple of soldiers pause. He leaned into the doorway. "It is clear."

Piccolo grinned and pointed his palm toward the rubble and the small bubble of light flew from his palm in a streak. Pippin watched as it pierced the side of the rock and made it glow. The rock spread with cracks and the whole piece suddenly exploded into pieces of gravel and dust.

Faramir stood gaping, not knowing what to make of what he had seen. Seeing is believing, but what he had seen was beyond anything else he had ever witnessed in his long life. He reentered the pub with glazed eyes and sat heavily in his seat beside the Namek.

Piccolo was watching him with a calculated gaze and ignoring the pealing giggles and astonished phrases that passed through Pippin's lips.

Time passed. Pippin had moved from the table and curled up beside Piccolo on a chair and fallen asleep. Piccolo had a hand resting on the Hobbit's back and was relaxed by the rythmic rise and fall of his chest. Faramir hadn't said a word to him since his show of force, not that Piccolo cared that much. He was getting slightly annoyed at the continual stare and contemplative look the man was giving him.

"Come." Faramir stood and motioned Pippin. "I will show you a room. We will leave by nightfall for Gondor. You should rest until then."

Piccolo nodded and carefully lifted Pippin onto his shoulder. The Hobbit stirred and snuggled into Piccolo's neck, mumbling incoherently about elevensies. He followed Faramir into the afternoon heat and into a building that was only slightly less dilapitated than the inn.

"Gandalf is on the top floor, the only room. Yours is here." Faramir pointed to an open doorway across the room.

An older fellow watched them lazily as they passed, too busy drifting off in a shadow by a window to care what they did. Piccolo went ahead of Farmir and lay Pippin on a rickety bed. The Hobbit stirred and snuggled into a strewn fur.

Piccolo grinned as he watched the boy start to snore softly and drool onto the blanket. "This will be fine."

Nodding, Faramir turned back to the entrance but stopped before he exited. "Piccolo...I want to appologize for my rash behavior."

Slightly taken aback by the quick turn-about, Piccolo only narrowed his eyes and waited. Faramir refused to shuffle his feet under the gaze and instead tucked down his pride and continued. "I should not have judged you because of your feelings for my brother." He swallowed thickly. "I loved him, but there were many times I had wished he had not been born, or perhaps myself."

"I understand." Piccolo said quietly. He didn't really, at least not all of it. All that mattered to him was that Faramir had overcome himself to take such a large step. "We can't start over, but we can at least continue from here on a better foot."

The scruffy man nodded, a small smile on his lips. Piccolo returned it with a smirk of his own and he watched as the man walked away, a little more bounce in his step than moments before.


	29. Ghosties and Alien Tag

a/n: We're winding down a bit! I never really thought I'd ever finish this. But look! More fighting coming, action and some more weirdness I couldn't help throwing in…I'm like that most times. ENJOY!

Thank you to EVERYONE who has continued to review…I know I'm a hard person to get along with but…I really appreciated the cards. Just kidding.

---

The weary group of misfits in the path of the dead had continued on. Aragorn could feel a sense of urgency in the air the further they went and knew that, finally, they were coming closer to where they needed to be.

Legolas was an ever-present force behind him, a welcome reprieve from the oppressive cold that was always in front of him. Gimli had grown use to the cave, though he was still leery. Aragorn was thankful. The dwarf's comfort had made him quiet, and along with that came the opportunity for the other's to relax--however minimally.

The only one of the group to stay entirely off balance was Goku. But he had taken much of Vegeta's discomfort away by remaining quiet about his own. Vegeta could still feel the man, stiff as a board, as he walked beside him. The ouji hated for Kakkarot to be so put off, but he was still too prideful to speak comforting words to him.

"Kakkarot..." He started. Goku tensed beside him for a moment before a quiet breathy laugh escaped him.

"Yea, 'Geta?"

"..." Vegeta scowled into the darkness, he shouldn't have bothered starting--he didn't have it in him to finish. "Nothing."

Goku frowned into the dark, a little confused but mostly still too creeped out to worry on it.

So they walked in silence behind everyone and with every step they took Vegeta felt progressively worse for not being able to calm the jittery nerves of his mate. He couldn't speak to him, but he had never been very eloquent with words anyway. So Vegeta did what he was best at, physical impression.

A warm, solid hand closed around Goku's wrist. He jumped in his skin and whoofed a sigh of relief when he recognized it as Vegeta's. He smiled down at where he could see Vegeta's outline. The hand slid down until Vegeta locked his fingers with Goku's.

"'Geta?" Goku's eyes widened in surprise--pleasant though it was. Vegeta grunted beside him and the fingers tightened fractionally for a second and Goku nodded, a small pleasant smile on his face.

"Alright back there?" Aragorn called. He hadn't heard much for the past half a mile but Goku's questioning voice made him pause.

Goku smiled into the dark and sighed. "Fine."

"The darkness no longer bothers you, Goku?" Legolas asked from somewhere in front of them.

"A little," His large hand flexed around Vegeta's, "but I'm feeling better." Vegeta smirked into the darkness.

The cave before them widened into a deep cavern. The darkness remained until they stepped from the narrow path into the great mouth. Cracks and fissures in the cavern walls and ceilings leaked in blue light. Great motes of dust hung in the hazy light and muted it further. Saiyajin eyes narrowed and took in the surroundings with amazing accuracy. Vegeta could feel the start of a headache behind his eyes as they were assaulted by the new light after so long in the darkness. From the looks on the others they all felt the same.

Aragorn began walking slowly into the center of the cavern, hand gripping the hilt of his sword with white knuckles. His unease gave rebirth to Goku's and the saiyajin suddenly missed the contact he had with Vegeta moments ago in such a great wave of anguish that he nearly cried.

Vegeta and Trunks were walking side by side, eyeing the stalagtites and stalagmites with their noble glares. Only Gimli remained by Goku's side, struck again by the intense emotion that racked the saiyajin third class. The dwarf only began to walk slowly away from him when he felt a physical stir of the air around the taller man, a warmth and solidity that did not come from the air of the cave.

Trunks looked over his shoulder as he felt Goku power up slightly and saw the look of panic stretched onto his face. He elbowed his father and ignored the look of anger shot at him when the prince stumbled, instead he pointed at Goku and felt his father tense.

"Kakkarot..." Vegeta spoke quietly, it echoed along the high walls despite it and everyone slowly turned their heads to the saiyajin.

"I don't like it, 'Geta..." Goku spoke so softly Vegeta barely heard him. Goku shivered and the other saiyajins felt him push his ki out around him like a blanket of security.

Vegeta set his hand on Goku's forearm and stared up at him. "There isn't anything here, Kakkarot."

Slowly, Goku nodded, eyes trained on the high walls searching for something only he could sense. "There are...and they're angry." He whispered, too oblivious in his searching to see Aragorn tense and Vegeta pale.

"Who are?" Trunks asked, eyes wide and searching the places Goku looked.

"The dead." Goku said, eyes snapping finally to Trunks and then Vegeta.

"Kakkarot you've been to other world, why are you scared of ghosts now?" Vegeta asked, slightly mocking to hide his true curiousity and anxiety.

"Cause, 'Geta, these aren't just ghosts...they're...I dunno...unsettled." Goku's eyes bore into Vegeta's, begging him to understand. "In otherworld the ghosts knew where they were, they had a place to be, even in HFIL. But here, they're stuck somehow."

Careful of his wording, Aragorn spoke from the center of the room. "He's right. This is the hall of the dead. The souls here are trapped for being treasonous to the ruler of Gondor centuries ago. They can only be free to travel to Valinor when they have righted their wrongs and kept their promise."

Vegeta frowned hashly and Goku looked oddly relieved in his panic--at least now he knew he wasn't going crazy. "Come on Kakkarot." Vegeta gripped him by the elbow and ignored the new flare of energy as they stepped into the center of the room to join the others.

"What now?" Trunks asked quietly, eyes still skittering among the shadows.

"Now, friend, we come to claim their debt." Aragorn said.

Trunks' eyes rose to his hairline and he looked over at Legolas to see the elf had not been affected by the statement. For a moment, the demi thought he had mistook the meaning of the man's words, but suddenly Aragorn strode forward from them.

The ranger pulled his sword from its sheath with a sheer ring and stared off into the darkness. He held the blade aloft and spoke in a voice that was strong and resonant in the cool chamber. "Let those that lie here in burden come and keep their promise. The King of Gondor beckons you, and when your trials are done may you rest in peace."

The echoe of his voice died and they stood in quiet contemplation. Aragorn nodded his head, and returning the blade to his side began walking toward a far wall. The others followed like obedient dogs, too unsure to do much else. A new corridor met them and inside it was further pitch darkness that sucked the heat from their bones.

They followed the ranger for a quarter hour, Legolas behind him and the demi-saiyajin beside him. Goku was trailing again with Vegeta at his side. The ouji was staring ahead of him incredulously. "That was it? All this travel for him to speak to the walls and walk on?" The prince snorted and crossed his arms over his chest.

Beside him, Goku was breathing shallowly. "That's not all that happened, Vegeta..." His voice was a whisper, as though he were afraid of others hearing him.

The saiyajin prince looked up at him oddly. "What are you blathering about, Kakkarot?"

"Behind us, 'Geta," Goku closed his eyes tightly for a moment, "they're following. A lot of them."

"What are you talk--" Vegeta trailed off as he turned his head to see. Behind them a haze of something was indeed following obediently. In the darkness it looked like a fine mist or low fog was rolling silently along. Now and then the shifting mass looked like it had hovering faces and stretching arms. Vegeta looked incredulously up at Goku and then back once more to whatever followed. He breathed, 'Kami', and took hold of Goku's hand again--this time he wasn't sure if it was for Goku's comfort or his own, and he was too prideful to think about it.

---

Piccolo became aware of the outside world when a warm lap full of something plopped soundly on him. At first he was too upset with himself for allowing his senses to diminish so badly to let someone sneak up on him, then he was a little curious about just who would have the gall to sit in his lap in the first place.

He opened his eyes and was not as nearly surprised as he thought he would be when he looked down at the curly haired head of Peregrin Took. "Pippin..." Piccolo rumbled.

The Hobbit looked up at him in faux surprise, "Oh, Piccolo, I didn't see you there." A large cheesy grin soon filled the boyish face and Piccolo rolled his eyes.

Pippin stood up and stretched. "Gandalf told me to fetch you. Apparently we'll be moving on soon." A small stitch of fear raced down the Hobbit's spine and Piccolo saw it screw up the boy's face.

"Where is Gandalf?" Piccolo asked, hoping to get Pippin's mind off of his fright.

"In the other room with Lord Faramir." Pippin smiled and ran off.

That was easier than I thought. Piccolo smirked. He stood up and soon followed the bundle of movement into the other room and nodded to the two men there.

Gandalf smiled grimly at him and motioned him to them with a hand. "I trust you had a good rest."

Piccolo shrugged. "It was fine."

The wizard nodded. "We will need to travel soon. The sooner we get to Gondor, the better."

Faramir motioned them with him and spoke as they walked. "I've taken the liberty of getting provisions--meager as they are--and a fresh horse for you Master Namek."

Piccolo frowned. "There is no need."

"Nonsense." Faramir spoke sternly. "If we are allies in this, then they are given to you freely."

"I don't want them." Piccolo growled.

"But they have already been retrieved for you." Faramir snarled.

Gandalf sighed and ran a hand down his weary face. "Enough." He turned to Faramir, "What he means, Faramir, is that he does not need steed or food."

"What creature does not need food or ease in travel?" Faramir looked at Piccolo skeptically. "Surely even you tire from running, and it is still a good distance to Gondor."

"I don't." Piccolo snapped, trying not to get angry with the Lord but his irritation was already roughed up so easily by the man that it was hard to smooth it back down. "I have my own methods." Gandalf gave him a disproving look and Piccolo sighed through clenched teeth. "Though I appreciate the offer."

They had reached the stables during their argument and Faramir nodded as he climbed onto his horse. Piccolo waited for Gandalf to mount Shadowfax before he handed the wizard Pippin.

The Hobbit's eyes grew wide and took on a remarkable likeness to puppy eyes. "Can I fly with you, Piccolo? Even for a while?"

Piccolo grinned. "When we're away from here and on safer ground."

The Hobbit smiled wide and settled into Gandalf's loose hold. "Alright!"

Faramir looked at them both as though they had lost their mind and heeled his horse into motion. By the time they had made it to the gates, the majority of those that were in the city were mounted and waiting for them. Piccolo walked along beside, eyeing all of the others that were crowding around him.

"We ride for Gondor." Faramir called loudly to them. A small cry of affirmation went up among the others and the horses began to ride out, led by Gandalf. Piccolo stood still, feeling the air whip around him as horses and riders moved swiftly past. The Lord Faramir looked back at him and grinned. "We can return for a horse, Namek."

A rather toothy smirk was returned to him, and Faramir was startled at how feral it made Piccolo look. "No need." Piccolo's deep bass growled out to him, and he pulled his horse to a stop to watch as the Namek lept into the air and flew past him in a cloud of dust.

"Incredible." Faramir mouthed. He watched as Piccolo grew into a speck in the air before he moved his horse into a run and moved through the throng of riders to Gandalf's side.

---

They rode to nightfall and further. Only when the moon was high and full, and they rested at the bottom of the mountains on the lee side, closer to Gondor, did they stop to rest. Campfires were lit but kept low at Gandalf's request. Sauron would have noticed their quick movement and would be curious about their shift, he didn't want to attract the demon's attention any more than he had to--at least not now.

Piccolo was set away from everyone else--per usual--and was preparing to settle himself for the night and be on guard without the telltale signs but destiny wasn't about to let him. As his eyes closed, Pippin walked carefully over, shuffling his small feet and twiddling with the edge of his cape.

"What's the matter, Pippin?" Piccolo asked quietly.

The Hobbit shrugged, looking at his feet and shuffled a little closer. "I've never been alone at night." He smiled shakily. "Usually I've got Merry..."

Piccolo shook his head and sighed. "So you want to sit with me."

Pippin's blue eyes were wide and hopeful. "Could I? I promise not to be noisy and I'll sit still."

Piccolo raised an eyebrow in disbelief. He mulled it over and supposed that it wouldn't hurt. He hadn't planned on sleeping or meditating tonight. Not in a bunch of strangers who kept eyeing him like he had just dug himself out of a grave and touching their weapons secretly. "Fine."

The Hobbit bounded at him and hugged him as far as his little arms could reach around Piccolo's broad chest. Suddenly, as though remembering himself, he stepped back and cleared his throat, suppressing a grin. "Sorry."

It quieted a bit after that. Pippin sat beside Piccolo on his bedroll and shivered as he pulled his cloak further around his body. Piccolo frowned down at the quivering bundle. The Hobbit caught his eye, "Can we start a fire?"

"No." Piccolo automatically answered.

"Why not?" Pippin sat up quickly. "Everyone else has one, and it's fairly cold."

Piccolo raised an eyeridge. "You can survive without one. We don't need the extra attention."

Pippin looked at those people that sat a distance from them and realized for the first time that they were all facing Piccolo and he, not one person had their back to them, and they were all at least ten yards away. He looked back up at Piccolo with a slightly worry creased face. "They don't seem to trust us."

Setting a reassuring hand on Pippin's head, Piccolo ruffled his curls. "Not you, Pippin." The Hobbit looked at him with slightly guilty eyes. "Don't sweat it kid. This is old territory for me."

Pippin plopped onto his back with a sigh. "They just don't know you, yet."

Piccolo repressed a grin. He crossed his arms over his chest and levitated from the ground two feet, warily eyeing the people nearest him that began to murmur. Slowly, the masses were falling asleep, only a handful lay in the darkness listening to the area around them. Piccolo kept his sharp hearing on the sky, listening for the Nazgul or--Kami forbid--Freeza. He checked the area around him with his ki and relaxed minimally when he found nothing beyond a few animals high in the mountains.

Pippin knelt beside him and sighed deeply.

"What is it now, Pippin?" Piccolo glanced at him before returning his gaze to the masses before him.

"I can't sleep." Pippin frowned. "Can I...can I sleep with you?" Piccolo gave him a queer look and Pippin began to fidget. "Normally, Merry lays with me and we share a blanket. I haven't slept alone since I left the Shire...but I felt safe there." He lowered his eyes.

Piccolo stared at his bowed head and grimaced. He had the worst soft spot for these Hobbits and they knew right where to poke him to get him to crumble. The Namek gathered his strength and vowed he would say no until Pippin looked up at him, blue eyes dewy and Piccolo caved.

"Fine." He grumbled.

The Hobbit sighed happily and stood up, climbing up into Piccolo's lap with his blanket clutched in one fist. Piccolo watched him in a daze, not expecting Pippin to plop onto his legs and snuggle down to sleep. The most he was expecting was for the boy to lean against his legs maybe, or ask for his cloak to sleep in.

"Pippin."

The Hobbit let out a contented, 'hmm' and Piccolo rolled his eyes. When he removed his cloak and tucked Pippin in with it, the Hobbit was already asleep.

Soft footsteps fell and Piccolo tensed, having been prey to Pippin's sweet disposition he didn't stay on the alert. Faramir's scruffy face smiled at him as Piccolo looked up, and the Namek relaxed minimally.

"I thought you might be thirsty." The Lord held out a canteen and Piccolo took it from him with a nod of thanks. Faramir smiled at him, "I knew you must have a need for something."

Faramir hunched down beside him and took the flagon when Piccolo was finished with it. He looked out among the people that had stayed so far away. "Do not worry about the others. They have a fear of you, but they will not attack you."

Piccolo snorted.

Standing with a slight groan, Faramir gave him a flicker of a smile. "Rest. Gandalf wants us to move at first light."

Piccolo watched him move off into the campsite and fade into the others there. He looked up into the alien sky and saw a smattering of stars. It reminded him of a time on the roof of Theoden's castle in Edoras. Piccolo closed his eyes with a sigh and thought of Legolas. Fair hair fluttering in a breeze and whipping around his face, brilliant eyes sparkling. He grinned into the night and sighed deeply, it rumbled out of his chest and he watched Pippin sleep. He was becoming a hopeless case. If things kept up this way he was bound to start being cordial to Vegeta.

---

The morning star was barely starting to stain the horizon when Gandalf began to move through the groups of men to rouse them. Those that had set down to sleep as soon as they had settled had gotten four hours of rest. All others that sat up for a time were lucky to have better than an hour and a half.

Piccolo looked down at the snoring bundle in his lap and gently shook Pippin awake. "Come on, kid. It's time to go."

The Hobbit mumbled and rolled over, falling onto the ground and sitting up in surprise. He blinked sleep fogged eyes at Piccolo and then laughed at himself. "What a way to wake up. I'm used to the ground now," he made a face, "so rolling over never has much worry about falling off of something." He grinned and stood up with a grunt.

Piccolo shook his head as the boy prattled on while looking through his sack and coming up with an apple to eat. Even Gohan as a child didn't speak so much after first waking up, he didn't quite understand where the Hobbit go his thoughts, and the energy to present them, from. Then again, the Namek always did find most talking frivolous. Most people only talked about the obvious or about things with very little importance anyhow.

Gandalf motioned to them when he saw them moving about and within the next hour all groups of men had been awakened thoroughly, fed marginally, and mounted for travel. The horses took off and Piccolo told a reluctant Pippin that he was to ride with Gandalf again today. They were closer to Gondor--no longer than midday to arrive by Gandalf's word--but he had an uneasy feeling that something was going to happen.

The sun had finally lifted off of the horizon and was just warming the air when Piccolo's premonition came at him with a powder blue face and trailing green hair.

Below him, Piccolo watched the men move along at a fast and steady pace. He could just make out Pippin waving to him from the back of Shadowfax and the Namek only shook his head. The boy suddenly began to wave both arms back and forth, almost as though he were panicking. Before long, Piccolo saw Gandalf stop quickly and the aged wizard looked up to where Pippin was pointing violently while tugging on Gandalf''s robes.

Half of the men below stopped as their leader did. Piccolo frowned and came to a stop. The thundering of hooves quieted tremendously and he could finally barely hear Pippin's calling voice over the noise.

"What is that? Piccolo! Turn around!"

In a flash, Piccolo felt for ki and his eyes widened in recognition at the same moment a hardened body barreled into his back and drove him straight at the ground. As he lay in the crater and groaned as he sat up quickly, he recognized the caramelized voice of Zarbon as the alien laughed at the crater's edge.

"Well, well...what have we here?" Zarbon posed with his hands on his hips as he watched Piccolo extract himself from the hole. "Far from home, aren't you Namek?"

Leaping out of the ditch, Piccolo scowled at the pretty blue face. "I was wondering when you would show up."

"Did you miss me?" Zarbon grinned.

"Like a crippling disease." Piccolo spat.

The same irritating laugh rippled and Piccolo tensed. They eyed each other warily over the crater rim. Far beyond them Piccolo could hear the hundreds of men murmur to each other. Go on, Piccolo thought. Get out of here.

Unfortunately, Gandalf was not telepathic. Piccolo could hear Shadowfax moving through the other men and hundreds of horses turning to watch. Onyx eyes bore into gold, hoping to Middle Earth's gods that Zarbon didn't attack the others. There were no dragon balls on this world to bring these people back.

"Master Namek, what is going on?" Gandalf's strong voice rang out to him. Piccolo didn't dare to glance over, afraid to take his eyes off of Zarbon for a moment.

"Get out of here." Piccolo growled out, tensing as Zarbon raised a hand but only used it to push his braid from his shoulders.

Zarbon laughed again, eyes now trained on the troops beyond Piccolo. "It never fails does it, Piccolo? Always new weaklings to guard. I don't know why you bother."

"Who are you to dare call me and my men weak?" Faramir called.

Piccolo ground his teeth, _For__ the love of... _"Go on! You don't know what your asking for!" Piccolo spat, eyes flicking quickly to Faramir and then back again to Zarbon.

Faramir recognized the anger in the biting tone and felt his own anger responding quickly. "You have not seen me or my men fight either, Master Namek. Perhaps you think we are unable to handle ourselves."

With a groan of frustration, Piccolo prepared to snap at the Gondorian lord again, but Zarbon moved in a blur beyond him. Piccolo growled and leapt ahead. The blue alien was headed directly toward Faramir with one large blue fist cocked back. Piccolo dove in time to catch the brunt of the blow on his shoulder. He flew backward through the throng of horses twenty feet before coming to a skidding stop still on his feet.

Zarbon was standing with his fists on his hips, laughing at Piccolo's act of heroism. "Come on, Piccolo. Let me teach the worm a lesson on talking to his betters."

Piccolo flew forward grasping Zarbon by the front of his shirt and hauled him so that they were face to face. "You're going to let them go. Besides, you're going to have enough trouble keeping up with me."

The blue faced alien snarled and heaved Piccolo by the chest, but Piccolo's hands only tightened further in Zarbon's shirt collar and the alien was tumbled with him. Piccolo pinned him to the ground and snarled down at him. Gold eyes danced with mirth and Zarbon laughed. Piccolo released one hand and curled his hand into a meaty fist that drove straight forward into Zarbon's mouth.

Blood spurt from busted lips and Zarbon howled in frustration, kicking Piccolo's bulk from his body and into the air. He quickly followed after and both of them came to death grips and rabbit punches.

Below them, Gandalf quickly gathered the troops and made them move. "Make haste! We know not what we are hindering here, and these creature's strengths are far beyond your comprehension."

It didn't take very much to get them to move, though some moved far more reluctantly as they wanted to watch the amazing match and know who the new creature was. A stray ki blast that was reflected fell at their feet and blew a crater into the earth big enough to swallow three horses and the straglers soon found their need for flight.

Only Faramir and Gandalf paused longer than the rest. The aged wizard watched their Namekien friend with a hardened gaze. Pippin was clutching at Gandalf's robe, eyes wide and shaking from fear so badly he was making Shadowfax uncomfortable. Looking to Faramir and then back up to the warrior, Gandalf spoke quietly. "Come, Faramir. There is naught we can do here but be casualties to forces beyond our control. I only hope Piccolo can come to us in one piece...he has already been close to death."

Pippin swallowed hard, eyes now losing sight of the fighting couple as their movement picked up seed. Gandalf moved Shadowfax away and Faramir reluctantly followed. The Hobbit strained his neck to check the skies and he was favored with a glimpse of Piccolo before he moved out of sight again. The Hobbit turned forward again, mind whirling. _And to think I was worried for Merry…_


	30. When death seems better

a/n: Some DBZ-esque fighting! Yippee! Also, as an added bonus there's a bit of saiyajin nibbling somewhere toward the bottom… ENJOY!

-

The air crackled and snapped, as though it was insulted that the two strong aliens dared to disturb it. Large green hands were balled into tight fists, hairless brows furrowed deeply enough to crease his forehead between the antennae. Weeks ago Mirai Trunks had first arrived and verified that two of the earths worst villains had followed them, he just never thought he'd be facing one of them alone.

"Why did you come here?" Piccolo growled, body clenched with tension.

Zarbon hovered feet away, a coy grin twitching on his swollen lips. "Why?" A wheezing laugh rolled out of Zarbon, "Why not?"

"Don't play games with me. I tend to get tired of them quickly."

Zarbon snarled, "Too bad, Namek. I love to play," he floated closer, eyes hardened into flint, "and I hate to lose." He snapped his fist forward, catching Piccolo in the chest. The Namek grunted and scowled as he blew backward, Zarbon could see him scolding himself for his lack of attention and he laughed.

A fist, a foot, a sharp elbow slammed into Zarbon's torso with incredible power. His eyes widened in surprise as he felt himself freefalling toward the earth, too awed at what had happened so quickly to catch himself. He divoted the earth and lay gazing up into the sky. He could see Piccolo, a blurry dot high above him, and a sick smile curled his lips.

Piccolo watched him come, a sharp spear of color and waves of splayed energy. He narrowed his eyes and dodged a fraction of a second before the blue alien could hit him. He caught Zarbon at the elbow and swung the surprised man around and jammed his knee into his face. There was a sick crunch and sticky warmth spread across Piccolo's patella before he planted his foot in Zarbon's chest and kicked him away.

Frustrated and howling, Zarbon flew back at him, pumping up his energy as he went. He disappeared before Piccolo's eyes and materialized below him. Zarbon grasped Piccolo's ankle and used the Namek's own weight and strength to heave himself around Piccolo's bulk to kick him in the jaw. Piccolo bit his lip and hissed as violet blood flooded his mouth.

Piccolo spun in the air and caught himself, wiping the trickle of blood from his chin.

"I'm impressed." Zarbon drawled, lazily clapping his hands. "You've improved quite a lot since I've seen you last."

The Namek spat and scowled at Zarbon. "Should I be flattered?"

In a flash, Zarbon was an inch from Piccolo's face, grinning widely with a foreign glint in his eye. "Not yet." Arms of iron clamped around Piccolo's midsection, trapping his arms at his sides. The Namek growled and struggled, and to his intense surprise, the arms only tightened their hold the more he moved. Eventually he had to stop, wheezing in breath as Zarbon held tightly enough to bend his ribs, hindering his breathing.

Piccolo thrashed, throwing his head and shoulders from side to side, yanking Zarbon right along with him. "You know," Zarbon panted, grinning with head arched back and away from Piccolo's striking range, "I used to find your kind revolting. Slugs as Lord Freeza puts it."

Piccolo growled, frustrated beyond belief and in complete denial that Zarbon was besting him so easily. Zarbon laughed breathily and flexed his arms, stilling Piccolo's movement again with a grunt. "But you," Zarbon intoned, eyes narrow as they raked across Piccolo's face. The Namek snapped at him, gnashing his teeth and Zarbon scowled. Piccolo hissed, afraid to breath as the pressure on his ribs increased and he felt one of them bend to the point of cracking. "There is something different about you now, isn't there? Maybe the years I've spent in HFIL have done their number, but something..."

Zarbon frowned at Piccolo's sneering face and flexed his arms again. The rib directly beneath his right arm snapped painfully and he watched as the lush green of Piccolo's face faded a shade. He flexed again, feeling the bone pinch forward and cut through tissue, Piccolo convulsed lightly and Zarbon smiled evilly. "Something..." He bent his head forward and ran his tongue up Piccolo's neck.

The Namek shuddered and fought again, his energy renewed as he felt Zarbon's saliva dry on the column of his neck. The pain in his side flared hot and intense as the blue alien clamped down, trying to still him. Howling, Piccolo summoned all the energy he had in him and pulled it as quickly as he could to the surface. Zarbon grinned even as his arms were pushed away from Piccolo and he flew backward from the force of his energy.

Free of Zarbon, Piccolo pressed a hand to his side and hissed. He glared at Zarbon and raised his energy, concentrating it at his side until he felt the bone slide around in his flesh and fuse to the broken edge. It wouldn't completely heal for minutes yet, but it had a stable knit. Hopefully if he could keep Zarbon from hitting it directly it wouldn't break again. Piccolo then raised a hand to his neck and scrubbed furiously at the trail of taint he still felt clinging to his skin.

Freeza's right hand had stopped his drive backward and was now coming at him full force, energy crackling harshly around him. "Does my touch disgust you?" A hard laugh ripped from Zarbon's chest.

Piccolo blocked the coming blows, each one hitting harder than the last until a solid hit to the jaw sent him flipping completely backward twice in the air. He caught his balance and blew at the alien again, snapping his teeth wishing there were flesh between them instead of air.

"Everything about you revolts me."

A hard kick to Zarbon's ribs made two crack but not break entirely. The alien curled his arm around Piccolo's leg before he could get it away and Zarbon drove them both to the earth, one foot at Piccolo's throat waiting to pin him to the ground like a spike.

"After I break your body," Zarbon panted, blood dribbling from his lip, "I will ask Lord Freeza if I can keep you as a pet. Then I will break you in the best of ways." He smiled viciously, large incisors glinting and tinted with blood.

Rage flushed through Piccolo as the earth came up fast beneath him. His stomach rolled in disbelief and disgust. His mind flashed an image of being beaten bloody and raw on the earth, Zarbon standing over him with leering eyes. Bile rose in his throat and Piccolo saw Legolas' face before his eyes. The elf was scowling hard, eyes like chips of ice. _Ignore him, break his body._ The elf's normally cool voice was harsh and biting and Piccolo's eyes widened fractionally before he nodded imperceptibly to the phantom.

Zarbon noticed the change in disposition. Piccolo had been revolted, not even willing to touch him in the fight because of the unbalance Zarbon had put in his mind. But the onyx eyes that seconds ago were filled with the fear of a man resigned to doom were now clear and staring at him with so much hate Zarbon could nearly feel the heat of them.

They were feet from the ground when Piccolo heaved his energy down and spun them in the air, the leg Zarbon held bending and pinning the stricken alien to the earth as the Namek drove him deeper and deeper.

A rib snapped, then another and Zarbon saw red. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Throwing a blast of ki took Piccolo off of him. Zarbon lept from the crater and stood on the earth. Lord Freeza would be furious if he lost, and Zarbon was loathe to incur the lord's wrath. Besides that, he had an insatiable urge to have Piccolo...funny that. He hadn't ever thought of the Namek twice, they were all slugs to him, so when did this slug make him want to peg him to the earth and ream into depths of body and blood to make Piccolo scream himself ragged?

Decades of celibacy most likely. Zarbon wolfishly grinned as he powered up. And the need for control. The alien grunted as his body began to reform. His bulk shifted and swelled, his fine-boned face swelling and growing into a grotesque reptilian shape complete with scales. He heard Piccolo snort above him and the Namek was barreling at him, ki energy flickering at his palms.

"Perhaps I should take you in this form and show you just what pain is." Zarbon growled, arms splayed ready to grapple Piccolo and beat the sense from him.

Revulsion pinched Piccolo's face. Zarbon's normal state may have been pretty, but he was still nothing compared to his elf and the differences between Legolas' heart and Zarbon's were as stark as day and night. There was a difference between beauty and attraction, because not all things that are beautiful can arouse want...and Zarbon was the latter.

Piccolo's foot drove into Zarbon's armor clad chest at the same moment the heels of his hands connected and blasted energy into his ugly blue face. The alien was rocketed backward but rebounded far too quickly for Piccolo's like.

As they continued to struggle to get the upper hand, only one thing echoed in Piccolo's mind...if he couldn't win he prayed to be dead.

-

The estranged crew of Middle Earth's creatures and Ningin Earth's aliens had reached the river, a branch of the great river Ethir Anduin, as if flowed in great steady currents to the sea.

Legolas breathed deeply of the mists that came creeping along the breezes as they traveled, his eyes trained on some far away place with features layered in calm and peaceful thoughts. It was as though he had no comment on the many legions of men that walked along the earth behind them-without shadow or need for breath.

The early morning sun was just stretching along the horizon and the whole of those living welcomed its brilliance like a weary traveler welcomes the comfort of his lover's arms. None more so than Son Goku as the saiyajin felt warm and safe for the first time in so many laborious hours. For a moment in time, the great throng of ghostly men that trudged on behind were forgotten.

A port city-large in its number of buildings and towering masts that cramped the narrow flat of horizon; yet not as great as any large city of the plains-grew steadily as the weary crew moved toward it. The wafting smell of stewing meats made the empty and bottomless stomachs of three famished saiyajins yowl with hunger. No other that moved along with them could smell the aroma and they watched as the trio hurried along, their paces set far greater than moments before.

The townsfolk of Pelargir watched them with amused and curious stares as the leaders of the city came to meet the call of the returned Gondorian king. The masses of the long-since-dead had no need for feasting and all eternity for resting. They themselves gathered along the waters edge outside the city limits grumbling over the limited use of mortality and the waste of resources it took to sustain it.

While Legolas and Aragorn met with the Portmaster, three saiyajins and a dwarf found themselves sitting at an Inn surrounded quite suddenly with fluttering damsels and bowls of food and fresh ale.

Goku glanced at Vegeta, but spoke not a word as he smiled brightly and dug heavily into the plate before him with a vigor that was all too familiar.

"Easy, Kakkarot," Vegeta warned, eating his food far more politely without eating any less than his companion. "You'll wind up inhaling a bone and killing yourself before any good fighting happens."

The third class gave him an incredulous look and began to speak around a mouthful of pork roast and potato, "Hey, 'Geta, gimme a break we haven't eaten a meal in-ack!"

Vegeta rolled his eyes as Goku began to whooping cough as a chunk of potato lodged itself in his wind pipe. The ouji slapped the other on the back twice before Goku swallowed hard and took in a great breath. He glanced at Vegeta and nearly mimicked Vegeta's trademark scowl as he turned back to his plate. Vegeta only watched him with a superior smirk and raised eyebrow as the man continued to eat at a far more subdued pace.

After feasting they rested contentedly on cushioned chairs, stomachs full-or at least not as empty as before-and gazed out along the waters. The sun had risen further, posted between mornings low rise and noon's high heat.

Goku and Vegeta had given up on the seats and the company of the others and found themselves swimming beside the docks and sitting underneath the worn wooden planks in the shade. Goku took more advantage of the cool water than the saiyajin prince, though Vegeta was quite happy to watch Goku's back muscles bunch and release as he moved through the water.

Ten minutes into their private excursion and Vegeta was pounced upon by a half aroused and widely grinning third class. Naked and dripping, Goku pressed Vegeta back into the wet clay and nipped along the prince's neck.

"Just what do you think you are doing, Kakkarot?"

Goku shrugged his broad shoulders as he lapped a bead of water from Vegeta's collarbone. "Nothing."

Vegeta shivered and fisted the thick hair at the back of Goku's head, using it as leverage to pry the man's head back. "Well if you continue on with this 'nothing' you are going to start something you will have to finish."

Goku only grinned, a sly and sinister look edging it as he gripped Vegeta's hip and pulled the ouji up to him. Vegeta grunted as Goku kissed him and eased his death hold on the third class's mane.

They were oblivious to the bustle above them on the boardwalk, even as those that walked above looked queerly around them when they believed to hear gasps, pants and grunts. Both were covered in a fine layer of fingertip bruises, nail scratches and love bites that had brought blood welling to the surface of their skin-and one or two that allowed it to spill in thin trails only to be laved away with eager tongues.

The bliss of being was just clutching them and begging for completion when a great spike of ki crackled across them like thunder. Goku sat up quickly, breath coming in great pants and skin flushed in rosy tones. He hit his head on the dock above them and rubbed at the pained spot as he tried to feel out the ki that hit them only moments before. He gazed down on Vegeta to see if the ouji too had felt it and knew he had by the curious eyes that scanned the skyline just visible between the plank cracks.

A long moment passed and nothing came back to them. Unsure, Goku looked again to the sky and felt carefully around but found nothing out of the ordinary and turned his eyes back to his captive prince still pinned under his bulk. His forgotten arousal thrummed to life again and he bent his head and continued to slowly undo his mate's strong resolve.

Vegeta squirmed beneath him, though not entirely from pleasure. He pushed at Goku's shoulders and struggled to sit up. "Kakkarot."

"Mmm..." Goku mumbled, mouth too busy with torturing bits of sensitive flesh to be wasted on talking.

"Kakkarot." Vegeta bit out, trying not to give into Goku's talents. A minute passed with his eyes closed and nearly purring before he remembered that he had wanted Goku to stop-though for the life of him he couldn't remember exactly why.

The ouji pulled his raveling stings of self control and grasped Goku's face between the palms of his hands. He made the third class look at him but forgot what he was going to say and forcefully pushed his tongue into the other's mouth.

Needles of energy pieced through the fog of their lust and startled them enough to push them away from each other. Goku's eyes hardened as he felt Piccolo's ki jump enormously. He looked somewhat apologetically down at Vegeta but the saiyajin prince was not blaming him for anything. Instead, the Ouji tossed Goku his clothing and pulled on his own in record time. He stopped a moment before topping the dock and pulled Goku into a lip splitting kiss. He lapped the sting of the cut twice and frowned. "Come on, Kakkarot. The boy has probably noticed as well."

It was true. By the time both pure bloods had returned to the Inn, they heard Mirai moving around the lobby with thundering steps and toppling furniture. They entered in time to see the lavender haired demi leaning in a doorway with Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and a few others watching him warily, ready to spring on him.

The room was in disarray, tables turned over, ale cups shattered and chairs in splinters. Vegeta scowled hard at the back of his son's head and stormed to him. He grasped the surprised demi by the elbow and swung him around, bracing the weight and threw the boy onto the floor. Trunks lay in a shocked stupor, only regaining his bearings after Vegeta pressed a knee into his chest and his fuming onyx eyes bore down on him. Trunks opened his mouth to speak but was cut off rather roughly by a press of his father's knee and a quiet, biting tone only meant for him to hear escaped Vegeta's lips.

"You will get up and apologize to the patrons here and then clean up your mess. It is unexcusable for a saiyajin prince to blatantly destroy another's belongings in frustration."

Mirai narrowed his eyes and nodded, biting his tongue to keep from reminding Vegeta of his own temper that caused the ouji to explode through the Brief's house and belongings for years. Vegeta let him up and stood watching as Mirai muttered an apology to a young woman that looked about ready to pass out from fright.

"What happened?" Goku asked in quiet awe as he took in the destruction.

"I am unsure. One moment the boy was sitting quietly, sipping his ale. The next he was staring off into space and then began to pace." Aragorn informed them. The ranger was watching the young saiyajin as he began to right tables and sweep together broken glass and pottery. "Is there something about him that we should know about?"

Vegeta scowled at what the question could imply, as though his seed would bear destructive and vindictive children. Goku set a calm hand on his shoulder and answered for him. "I think Trunks is just frustrated. His whole life has been based on events he couldn't control. Now it's just getting to him."

Aragorn frowned, unsure of what it was exactly Goku was talking about. Legolas, ever the intuitive one, sensed the questions on his friend's mind and voiced them for him. "I understand his frustration, but what has set him off?"

Vegeta frowned, watching his son in satisfaction. He turned his eyes to the tall elf, "The Namek."

Brilliant eyes widened and the others could see Legolas pale a shade as his long calloused fingers unconsciously came up to touch the badge on his breast. "What has happened?"

"We can't say for sure," Goku scratched the back of his head, "but he's powered up and Zarbon is in the same area."

Legolas tensed, eyes flicking back and forth between the saiyajins. "What does that mean?"

"It means the Namek is currently battling Freeza's strongest henchman."

The elf nodded stiffly, unmoving even as Aragorn set a comforting hand on his elbow. "Then why is your son so angry? If he is worried, he could have easily gone to him."

"No." Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest as Trunks finished and carefully approached them. "Piccolo told him to stay with us. The boy is only doing as he was told."

"I'm sorry, Aragorn." Miria looked at his feet, the bridge of his nose pink. "I didn't mean to-"

"Don't apologize." The ranger cut him off. Trunks met his gaze and smiled lightly. Strider smiled knowingly, "besides, I am sure it is that fire that draws my foster brothers to you."

The pink along Mirai's nose darkened but he grinned anyway.

The three saiyajins looked out the doorway and up into the sky at the exact same time. The others around them were a bit unnerved and looked up as well but in vain. Aragorn saw a tremble of anger shake at Trunks' shoulders but the young man held himself together and turned his eyes from the sky hastily.

"What do we do?" He asked his father quietly.

Vegeta's eyes did not divert from their spot for a long moment. Finally the saiyajin prince looked up at Goku and then to his son. "Nothing."

Beside him, Legolas stiffened. Vegeta glanced at him from the corner of his eye and snorted. "The Namek was correct in dividing us as he did. We'll keep his wishes...for now."

The mismatched crew moved from the Inn and walked the narrow streets. Aragorn began to speak quietly, trying to take the others mind's from Piccolo. "We have the support of the manned boats at our backs. They will keep the hoards from crossing the river as long as possible."

Gimli looked mildly impressed. "You would be hard pressed to see a Dwarf on a boat. Why men are so consumed with new ways to kill themselves I do not know."

Aragorn grinned as his eyes scanned the fluttering sails around them. "Only to make you curious, Master Dwarf."

The mood had lightened well enough over the fast few minutes, but it was not to last long. As they slowed to a stop on a long pier, the saiyajins scared them all again by spinning on their heels and gaping into the sky.

Legolas paled again and his sharp elfin eyes saw a bright blast far, far in the distance. He gasped and gripped Gimli's shoulder without realizing he was doing so until the dwarf growled and squirmed from his grasp.

"That's it!" Trunks growled. He had taken three steps before his father had his elbow in a tight grip. "Let go!"

"No." Vegeta narrowed his eyes at his son.

"I can be there to help him in ten minutes!" Trunks breathed, anxious tension making him twitch.

Goku stepped forward, eyes turned in another direction. "I think we need you here."

Brow furrowed, Trunks shook his head. "What?"

At that moment a great cry rang from a nearby tower and a deep bell tolled. The city before them erupted into motion. Mirai followed Goku's gaze and frowned deeply, shoulders slumped.

"If we can take care of this quickly, you find Piccolo then."

Trunks nodded as he followed the group of warriors to the front lines. There before them a great swarm of black and sweaty beasts were pouring over the hillside. Great throngs of orc, Urak-hai and other beasts of Sauron were jeering as they fell upon the port-side city. The small group of warriors were soon backed by other men and able bodies from the city, and the eerie and oddly excited group of phantoms tinged in green and greys along the banks.

As they moved ahead to meet the first ranks of evil, Piccolo's ki jumped and crackled along with them.


	31. Calm Before the Storm

Piccolo stood breathing deeply, the pain of the act made all to clear by the large beads of sweat that poured freely from his pores. Violet blood was dripping in small pools at his feet and if he didn't know any better he'd think he was already dead. The only thing keeping him standing and smirking was the fact that Zarbon was not fairing much better.

The blue henchman had reverted back to his fine-boned self after being beaten into lumps in his ultimate form. Both aliens were only standing of their own willPiccolo's will being to smear Zarbon into the earth; Zarbon's will to bend Piccolo to his pleasure.

"Well...are you beaten?" Zarbon's panted, a manic laugh just itching to escape him. He watched a trickle of blood leak from a fresh split along the Namek's cheekbone dribble to his chin.

"I'm not dead yet." Piccolo snapped, snarling purple tinted teeth.

Zarbon grinned and tensed in preparation to move. "So long as there is fight in you..." Zarbon yelled, throwing himself toward Piccolo with a speed the Namek was sure he had no energy left to achieve.

Barely dodging the coming alien, Piccolo's shoulder was clipped by the alien's weight and he spun heavily before landing on one knee. He glared up at Zarbon as he switched position to come back again. This time Piccolo gripped hold of the blue alien's leg and threw him face first into the earth before pinning him there and wrenching his arm behind his back.

Pain raced up Zarbon's arm from the elbow to the shoulder and then flared into his back as the Namek laid his weight on the bent limb. Zarbon growled and hissed into the earth, struggling against the Namek's superior weight without dislocating his shoulder in the process.

Piccolo leaned heavily on his enemy's elbow, satisfied at the pop and release as the bones disconnected. He was too distracted with his small victory to notice Zarbon's free hand coming around and aiming a ball of energy at his face.

The light connected with his skin, searing into his already tortured flesh and blowing him across the field where he fell into a preexisting crater. Piccolo struggled for breath and glared up out of the crater with his one good eye. Evil laughter was growing steadily stronger as its creator edged forward.

Piccolo lay still, slowing his pained breathing until it seemed he had fallen unconscious. Above him he watched with a slitted eye as Zarbon grinned gleefully down at him. The blue alien gripped his useless arm and wrenched it around until the bone snapped back into place. Pain blossomed on his face and Piccolo nearly grinned in satisfaction.

Zarbon slowly made his way down the crater's side, eyes trailing along Piccolo's beaten form. The Namek slowly lowered his ki, hoping to lure Zarbon in a false sense of victory. Before long the right hand of Freeza was towering over him, that same infuriating laugh trickling out of his throat.

"Ah, Piccolo, didn't I tell you what was going to happen after I've beaten you." Zarbon grinned, blood and saliva dribbled down his chin.

He crept forward and lowered to one knee beside Piccolo's prone form. It took all of Piccolo's reserve not to shy away as the alien trailed his fingers across the fresh cuts of his face. Zarbon continued to murmur random things and disgusting thoughts of what he would enjoy, Piccolo paid him little attention. Instead, the Namek lay prone and unmoving while his right handconveniently resting above his headtwitched unobtrusively until the first two digits rested just under his left antenna.

By the time Zarbon had stopped his manic banter, the first layer of an energy ball was sitting just under the skin of Piccolo's palm.

It was hard to concentrate on gathering energy discretely when Zarbon gripped a handful of his gi and ripped it away in a flurry of ribbons. Cold, ungentle hands roamed across Piccolo's torso while the Namek lay in indifference, the alien's actions only serving to increase the importance of his secret energy gathering.

"Such a catch." Zarbon was muttering to himself. "To know I can beat you nearly to death and you can heal without a regen tank."

Piccolo's fingers twitched, he couldn't hold the engergy for his blast secret much longer. It still needed to grow but his flesh could not contain it and to feign unconsciousness and let the energy grow enough for his kill...he would need to distract Zarbon.

The blue alien leaned forward as he felt Piccolo's ki grow slightly. He frowned as he watched, pressing his weight down on the fallen warrior and curling fingers into Piccolo's throat just in case.

"Wakey, wakey." Zarbon laughed, golden eyes narrowed as Piccolo's face twitched. He watched carefully as the Namek's good eye slowly opened. One ebony eye squinted blearily at him and Zarbon smiled ferally at him. "Welcome to the party, pet."

To his immense surprise, Piccolo didn't growl or fight him in any way, he did nothing. The Namek rolled his head to the side and back again and when his ebony eye met Zarbon's again it was a bit clearer than moments before.

"I've won, Piccolo." Zarbon sneered, tongue darting out to smooth across his lower lip. "You do understand what that means, don't you."

A pained sneer answered him, and Zarbon's skin tingled as he nipped at the bruised and abused flesh of Piccolo's neck. He waited for the revolted sniveling and disgusted growls and paused in confusion when Piccolo did neither.

Zarbon lifted his head and watched in amused satisfaction as Piccolo craned his neck to breech the gap between them. He grinned in delight at the play of disgust on Piccolo's face even as his body responded to his touch.

"Well, well...isn't this a surprise." Zarbon's grin widened and he lowered his head to run his tongue up Piccolo's neck. The Namek shuddered beneath him and a moment later a large green hand fisted in his hair.

Zarbon waited for Piccolo to wrench his head back and punch him in the face. The grip tightened marginally but his head was pulled back down into Piccolo's neck, not up. He should have wondered why Piccolo was so willing for his touch, especially since the Namek had nothing but revulsion for him before but his growing libido did not give him the grace to think of it.

He bit deeply into Piccolo's flesh, tasting the tang of Namekian blood on his tongue. He was just starting to enjoy his feasting of flesh when the hand in his hair tightened again and pulled him back enough to look Piccolo in the eye.

"I have something for you." Piccolo rasped out, a twitching smile on his face.

Zarbon's eyes sparkled and he grinned, lapping a dry trail of blood from Piccolo's chin before answering him. "And what is that, my pet?"

The unfocused eye suddenly sharpened and the flickering smile turned into a snarl. "This."

Zarbon opened his mouth into a silent 'oh' as the blast of a special beam canon caught him between the eyes from only an inch away.

Piccolo closed his eyes to the harsh glare. When he opened them again only a handful of green hair was left twined in his fingers. Piccolo covered the bitten wound in his neck with his right hand and shivered. He rolled painfully over and retched brokenly into the dirt, the lingering feeling of the revolting alien's lips staining his skin.

He heaved his bulk from the crater twenty minutes later after gathering his strength and collapsed in the burnt grass. His last fleeting thought before darkness took him was of Legolas' satisfied face as pale beautiful features smiled happily at him, the ghost of a kiss touched his lips and Piccolo fell unconscious.

He woke cold on the plains hours later. The sun was just setting and darkness was spreading in thick layers in the sky. Piccolo took a long moment to gather his wits and remember where he was.

Grunting, he stood on quaking legs and huffed in the clean air. He could see the first fire lights of Gondor burning far in the distance. Purple tongue swollen in his mouth, Piccolo would rip off his arm for a mouthful of water. Unfortunately, there was no water near him and he had some distance to travel before he would make it to Gondor's heavy iron gates.

He walked slowly for ten minutes, his body slowly regenerating itself. He hadn't realized how much damage he had managed to take from Zarbon, but truth be told the alien had absolutely increased his power. Piccolo shivered, he didn't want to fathom how much further Freeza had come if Zarbon had improved so much.

Piccolo's pace slowed and he grimaced at how tired he was. What he needed most at the moment was a jug of water and a secluded spot to sleep for the next ten or so hours. He didn't dwell on it, instead ignoring any thoughts whatsoever and trekked toward the flickering lights of the city.

It had been thirty minutes, give or take a few, and as maddening as it seemed, Piccolo didn't feel any closer to Gondor's limits. The sky had darkened like heavy bruiseshe could appreciate the irony of the thoughtand with every long minute his body burned what bit of energy he had left. If he didn't make it to Gondor soon, he was afraid he would collapse in the fields. Then anything could get to him, things he would never fathom in his dreams.

He looked up again, Gondor still a shadow of building far away, and he stumbled. Cursing, Piccolo managed to gather his footing and continue. Now, every foot drug through the dry earth wasn't quite as long as the stride before, and before he could grunt his body was falling toward the earth. His eyes were falling closed as the ground rushed up at him, but he never felt the impact as he fell unconscious.

* * *

The battle to end the rush of orc beasts on the Port city hadn't taken as much effort as it had time. The ghosts of eons past were unable to be defeated; arrows, swords and fists could not touch their misty bodies. The Urak-hai had been too furious about not killing them to fear them as they should have. The lesser beasts knew better, fear an all too common part of their small mindset. Even with the saiyajins superior strength set free, Goku refused to let them use any ki force to attack the beasts. They were outnumbered as they were at Edoras, but they had no right to destroy all that lay around them just to slay the beasts that flowed in.

Vegeta had agreed with the third class's thoughts and so they fought with feet and fists, barely taking any damage and at the end of it all were bloody only from their enemies' entrails.

Now, as the dead lay teeming along the shores and the water ran black with orc blood, Aragorn had a creature pinned to the earth with his sword. "What is your intention coming here?" The anger was still sparked in the ranger's eyes, but his words were weary from long days travels and very little rest.

The creature gurgled and sneered before spitting a wad of bloody phlegm into the ranger's face. Aragorn scrubbed at his face with the back of his hand and growled in his throat. He lean lightly on the sword handle and the creature twitched before whimpering and moaning in the tongue of its brethren.

Vegeta had watched the exchange for nearly fifteen minutes, intrigued at the display of vehemence Aragorn had shown. Not once in their entire time together had Vegeta seen him so far out of character. As the creature's wailings dimmed again and it continued to mock Aragorn, the prince of all saiyajins had had about enough of the run around.

The poor orc had no idea what it had done when the saiyajin prince gripped it by the throat. Coal black saiyajin eyes bore into its own and the strong hand squeezed, effectively cutting off what little air it had been getting. "Listen to me, filth. I will not take your whimpering any more. You're going to answer his questions or I will make you feel pain like you have never felt in your entire pathetic life. And I promise to make it last." Vegeta sneered, fingers twitching tighter for emphasis.

It laughed. The sound was gurgling and raspy, but it was a laugh nonetheless. With a sneer of disgust, Vegeta's fingers pinched into the beasts windpipe and slowly he gathered ki at his fingertips. Blood and saliva frothed at the corners of its gaping mouth only seconds later, the stench of burning flesh quickly wafting the air. A shrill shriek of pain sliced into Vegeta's head and in anger he pushed the ki further until the skin under his fingers bubbled and clear fluid burst from the blisters.

"Well?" Vegeta snapped, fingers loosening marginally so that the beast could talk.

Aragorn glared at it, prepared to ask his question again but the creature began to stammer out an answer between pained sobs and weak moans of pain. "The ships! The ships..."

While Aragorn and Vegeta interrogated their captive, the others were helping aid the wounded. Many had died from the city, many more wounded. Women and their elder children bustled through the men laying about with bowls of water, rags and medicinal herbs.

Legolas was grinding a paste from the leaves given to him at his request. He could see Goku out of the corner of his eye as the large man tried his best to wrap up some of the worse wounds. The large saiyajin was such a paradox. He was naive and innocent part of the time, and the other part he was efficient and in control. The elf had to admit, however, that even he was being soothed by the quiet comforting tones Goku was using with the wounded. The slow, rich voice had a lulling effect. With a slight smile, Legolas thought of the children he had heard Goku speak of. It must have been useless to fight to stay awake with a voice like that telling bedtime stories.

"I'm leaving." The voice was out of the blue and surprising to both Goku and Gimli where they sat resting. Legolas looked up from his bowl and frowned thoughtfully.

Mirai looked at all of them and then turned beseeching eyes to Goku. "You said when this was over I could find Piccolo. So I'm going."

The large third class stood, clasping one large hand on Trunks' shoulder. "Go then. Take care of him, I think he might be roughed up a bit." A grim smile and short laugh followed before Goku looked out into the fields. "He won, I know that much. But I don't know how you'll find him."

Mirai nodded stiffly, already expecting as much. He too had felt the great surge of energy before Zarbon's life seemed to snuff out. He shouldered his pack and walked away from the injured groups of people. He didn't want to take off in the middle of them and stir up all the dust and debris.

A stern hand on his elbow stopped him before he could clear the last of the laying bodies and Mirai turned curious blue eyes on his pursuer. Legolas was looking back at him with cool detachment, but just under the settled features, Mirai could see the muscles of his face ticking as they fought off a deep frown. "Yes, Legolas?"

The elf paused before straightening himself to his full height and squaring his shoulders. At that moment, Trunks could see the regal elfin prince for the royalty that he was. Nobility and honor were etched into each feature on the elf's face and stature as he spoke calmly. "No matter how you find him, tell him I will see him soon. On this plain or another."

Mirai nodded slowly, face hardening. He'd forgotten there was something between Legolas and Piccolo. He had noticed it before, certainly, but Piccolo was reserved when it came to displays of affection. He would find the Namek, and if he had to, he'd keep him alive long enough for him to see Legolas again. Who knew what it was exactly the Namek and Elf had together, but it must have been something big enough for Piccolo to mark Legolas, and Legolas to ache for him. Trunks could see that, hidden deep in the elf's eyes where he was sure Legolas hoped no one saw it.

"Of course."

Legolas nodded and Mirai was gone.

The travel over the plains was fast and furious. Forebodding clouds were moving in overhead to blot out the starlight, and with them came an intense cold. Mirai stayed focused on Piccolo's ki. It wasn't strong, but it was steady.

He found him, twenty minutes later, laying in the earth.

Trunks landed and ran to him, falling to his knees beside him and checking for any outstanding injuries before he tried to move him. The Namek was banged up well enough. Bruises, gashes, dried blood all covered him from head to toe and Trunks was having a hard time telling where one wound ended and another began.

He rested a hand on Piccolo's shoulder and grapsed the wrist with his free hand. Mirai pulled the dead weight until he had Piccolo partly propped up with his arm over his shoulders. He stood with a grunt, barely lifting Piccolo's torso from the earth.

Jumping to super saiyajin, Trunks hefted the rest of Piccolo's weight up and held the Namek up by grasping hold of his belt. Sharp eyes trailed the distant line of mountains until they rested on the lights of a city. With a nod to himself, Trunks took to the air again, this time moving at a slower pace for fear of hurting Piccolo further.

They had barely reached the outer gates when Piccolo stirred and stiffened. Mirai looked over and caught the blurry onyx eyes of the Namek as he tried in vain to clear them. "Trunks?"

The demi smiled and nodded. "Yea, Piccolo, it's me." They landed outside the wrought iron and Trunks bellowed up the side of the wall at the guard on the top who only gaped down at them before yelling for his commander.

"Whawhat are you doing?" Piccolo blinked, trying to stave off the blackness that was creeping back into his vision.

"I'm here to help you." The demi-saiyajin smiled lightly, shifting his weight to keep Piccolo from collapsing to the ground.

A ruckus could be heard just inside the gate before the sound of Gandalf's highly agitated voice made it to their ears. "Out of the way you fools, open the gate. Quickly."

The iron groaned on its great hinges and Piccolo grinned weakly as Pippin bounded forward and grasped hold of him as though to help.

"How are you, Master Namek?" Gandalf asked quietly, eyes trailing over the vast injuries while he helped Trunks move Piccolo through then entry.

Piccolo heard the iron gates thud shut solidly behind him and blinked his eyes to try and clear them again. "I've been worse."

"And the creature?"

"Dead." Piccolo's stomach clenched and he bent as though to vomit but nothing came of it. The others looked at him in curiosity and worry. The Namek shook his head at Mirai's questioning look and straightened as best he could.

The wizard frowned, then snorted. "Come along then, I have a room for you to recover in."

The trek up the hundreds of stone stairs into the tower of Gondor's castle took a long time. By the time they had reached Piccolo's quartersa small room off of Gandalf's ownthe Namek was gasping ragidly for breath and blinking spots of black from his eyes.

Mirai lowered him to the cot and stretched his aching back. Piccolo was, after all, a very large creature. He saw tension grip Piccolo's body as it tried to relax only to stop violently as broken pieces of his body rebelled.

Pippin appeared by his side with a jug of water. The Namek offered him an exhausted smirk and took a sloppy drink before he fell back into the bed, eyes already closed. The Hobbit looked proud for a moment before excusing himself, leaving Trunks alone with the dozing Namek.

Mirai knelt beside him and spoke softly, "Legolas said"

"Leg'las?" Piccolo mumbled, eyes rolling in his head as he struggled to wake enough to listen.

Trunks smiled softly at the quick turn-around the elf's name brought. "Yea, Legolas. He wanted me to tell you that he'd see you soon."

"Soon." Piccolo murmured, the corners of his mouth quirking ever-so-slightly.

The Namek's eyes were closed and his breathing was slow and shallow. Mirai watched him for a few minutes, already seeing some of the lighter bruises fade ever so slightly. He was sure Piccolo wouldn't feel one hundred percent for at least a day yet, but he would function well without anything broken by midday tomorrow.

With a final look over his shoulder at the sleeping form, Trunks exited the room and sat down before the fire in Gandalf's sitting room. All the thoughts of elves made him think of the two he had left behind as well. He idly wondered when he would see them again, or if he even would at all.

* * *

Thanks to reviewers, Love you all! Hope your days are great!

Nnif -.-


	32. Icejin Lords and Secret Allies?

Two days later, as faded morning light pushed through the thick cloud cover, Piccolo groaned and rolled over, then off of his cot and onto the hard floor. He pushed himself up with one arm and stared at the cold tile below him in wonder. _Where...?_

Standing slowly, Piccolo remembered Trunks. That explains the how. There was no one in his room, and the only thing that proved someone had been there was half an eaten pear.

He stretched his shoulders and he ducked under the doorway. A large sitting room sat before him, also empty. A pitcher of water and bowl of fruit and bread sat on a table, Piccolo went to it and took a heavy draught straight from the pitcher's lip. He set it down and moved out of the darkness of the room and into the light. A guard outside the quarters came to with a start.

"Hold!"

Piccolo looked at him queerly and tried to move past until a spear slapped across his chest, the tip pointed under his chin. He looked slowly down at the guard, the man held his gaze. "I said hold, creature."

"What do you want?"

The guard seemed to ignore him. "How did you get here?"

Raising a brow, Piccolo answered him truthfully. "I don't remember."

"Liar." The man growled, pressing his blade closer. "How did you get into that room? I've been standing here for hours and no one has gone in but Mithrandir and his guest."

Piccolo sneered, lip curling high over his fangs. He was getting sick of the byplay, he had just woken up from greivous injury and the last thing he wanted to deal with was an annoying man with a Napoleon complex.

"Stop!" A familiar voice called. Piccolo turned his head, growling slightly when the tip of the blade sliced into his flesh. Gandalf appeared from a set of stairs to the right, white robes billowing. He knocked the guards spear away when he reached them and glowered. "What are you doing, you fool?"

The guard looked stricken. "I am doing as you've asked, Mithrandir. I am guarding the wounded warrior in your chambers."

Piccolo snorted and the guard shot him a dirty look. Gandalf sighed deeply, "This is the wounded warrior."

"Sir?"

"How is it that a man has walked out of the room, when no man has entered?" Gandalf gave him a withering look and touched the scratch on Piccolo's neck. "Hmm."

"Where's Trunks?" Piccolo asked, eyes trailing the large white city around him. He barely remembered climbing all of those hundreds of stairs.

"He is having breakfast with Pippin." Gandalf smiled slightly. "Come, you should join them. They will be happy to see you."

They moved past the distressed guard without another thought and toward the soldiers mess.

Piccolo gathered his fair share of attention. A good handful of men and women had seen the alien being helped up into the city two days ago. Those they told the tale to had scoffed, especially when the great demon they described did not appear again in the morning light. Now it seemed word was spreading again.

Pippin was overjoyed at Piccolo's appearance. He jumped from his seat and barreled into the Namek's legs then let go with a guilty look before returning to his seat. Mirai stood, relief etched on his face.

"Good to see you up." He motioned a chair and Piccolo sat, ignoring the murmuring from the tables around them. Miria leaned close to him, face fallen serious. "There are orc troops moving in. I've been trying to keep a lookout for Dad and Goku, but they haven't come yet."

"Orc troops." Piccolo sighed deeply. "When will they get here?"

"Soon." Trunks popped a hunk of beef into his mouth and chewed. "I hope you're feeling better."

"That many?"

"Yea."

Across from them, Pippin paled. He knew all of what Trunks was telling Piccolo. The demi-saiyajin had given Gandalf updates every morning and late afternoon. The only thing that kept the Hobbit from complete panic was that Trunks had felt some familiar ki to the northwest and after checking, told Gandalf that Theoden and the others were halfway to Gondor.

Pippin's head snapped up as he remembered something important Piccolo had missed. "Faramir is very hurt."

Piccolo paused in his conversation with Trunks to look hard at Pippin. "Faramir?"

"Yes," Pippin swallowed hard. "His father sent him back into the fight after he told him he wished he was dead."

Piccolo's frown deepened. "When was this?"

"Not long ago. Quarter hour at least. He's still alive, but Denethor acts like he has already passed." Pippin looked at his lap. He liked Lord Faramir, had then sworn allegiance to his father and now almost wished he hadn't. The Gondorian Steward was growing crazy.

They were sitting in contemplative silence when the up cry from the front wall woke them. Men from all tables leapt to their feet in action and the whole of the city was blurry with movement within moments.

Pippin ran to the Citadel where his honor was bound. Piccolo and Mirai followed Gandalf down to the main gates. Piccolo stiffened as he stood on the wall. Millions of orc lay below, trolls and other great horned beasts looming high and large with them. He turned his stony face to Mirai who looked at him with his father's warrior eyes. "That's a lot of orc."

Mirai nodded, looking out along the wall. Around and behind them men began to shoot arrows and catapult great slabs of rock into the hordes of beasts at Gandalf's orders. "What do we do?"

The young prince's question was answered not a moment later as the Nazgul lurched low and hard, bowling over men with their feet and wings; snapping some up in the claws and hurtling them back into the city.

Without a word, both Z warriors were in the sky with eyes trained on one ugly beast or another. Ki flashed out of fingertips, grazing the amazingly agile beasts and making them hiss in anger. The shrill screeches razored into Piccolo's head. He punched one of the riders in the chest, the bones caving in under the pressure and blowing it from its perch. The Nazgul turned its great head to snap at him, but Piccolo gripped it by the jaw and wrenched until the creature was snapped from the air and flailing at the Namek's mercy.

Below them, some orc towers crumpled while others met the high walls to spill their evil seed over the stones. A great battering ram emerged from the orc throng as though it were spelled there. Mirai watched it move toward the high arched gates with a sense of forebodding. He turned back to the flying beasts around him, trying to get clear shots so that he would not destroy the city below and around him. An alarmed cry reached him at the same moment the iron gates groaned and shivered; the orc had reached the gates with their giant ram and were hellbent on busting through.

Mirai aimed a palm down at the massive construction. He prepared to release it, only to have it knocked far from course as a Nazgul battered into him from behind. He spun through the air and caught himself in time to see the large jaws open and rows of needled teeth close in near him. He caught the jaws and held them open even as the razor-like teeth sliced viciously through the flesh of his palms and forearms. He grunted, pushing his energy out and jumped into supersaiyajin. The creature tried to back away as the roiling heat filled its mouth and seared its lungs, but Mirai held it steadfast even as his fingers ran slick with blood. With a great bellow and huge heaving of muscle, the jaw of the beast wrenched free and rained black blood on the men below.

As the creature fell from the earth and crushed dozens of orc as it impacted the earth, Trunks saw the legions pouring hard toward the gate and pushing with their might. They were going to need help if they wanted to keep the beasts out. He looked skeptically toward Piccolo as he wrestled with another of the flying creatures. They could use their ki to clean up the orc quickly, but it would destroy the earth as well. Back on their earth, a decision like that could be made in seconds but it was their earth, and if the damage was ever very bad they always had the Dragon balls to fall back on. It wasn't their decision this time.

Then, as though some unearthly being heard his thoughts, a great cry went up at the east wall and he turned to see plumes of dust rising high and hard in the air. The Rohorrim were coming.

* * *

Bulma sat heavily in her chambers. The great halls were empty, bereft of every being that ever lay within. Glorfindel had gone on Elrond's orders, and with them he brought every elf under the roofs with him except for the Lord himself and the Lady Arwen. Bulma didn't mind the quiet, nor having to retrieve things for herselfthough that was a bit akward now and then since she didn't know where everything was.

She had spent the last week by herself as the elves around her gathered themselves together quietly. As solemn as the whole situations seemed, she didn't see on elf upset by whatever it was that was forcing them to leave their home. If she had been the one told to leave her house, she would have thrown a screaming fit and wept the entire time she was leaving. Mostly, Bulma wished for company and to know what was happening; with the elves, with Vegeta and Goku, and with the war. She always hated waiting for news.

Tired of being lonely and thinking far too much to be good for her, Bulma stood with a huff and entered the silent hall. Her footfalls sounded abnormally loud in the overbearing quiet. Not for the first time did she wish she had a discman with her. That perked her interest, so with a turn of the heel she quickly made her way toward the sheds where two complete time machines were setting.

Humming happily, she popped open the storage compartment of Mirai's time machine and began to riffle through the odds and ends inside. There were a few capsules, most of which were labeled from the items he brought from home. Clothing, photos, etc. The one that piqued Bulma's curiousity ws the one marked 'miscellaneous'. She popped it open and carefully opened the box that came out. Inside were some things she recognized, some she didn't. The wedding band Vegeta had given to her, her mothers favorite necklace, Vegeta's only journal written entirely in saiyago. The Vegeta from her time had one as well, but she had only touched it once to move it, not even bothering to peek, and he had caught her touching it. It had been one of the few times she had seen him so mad he couldn't speak. He glared, opened and closed his mouth several times and turned a shade of red so deep he looked purple before he snatched if from her hands and stormed from the room. She didn't know where he put it.

There were a few small things that she didn't recognize. The most curious of them were a carefully folded gi with a sensei's symbol she didn't recognize and a piece of broken concrete. Bulma moved them both slowly and smiled. There beneath the gi was a discman and several cd's.

She flipped around the cases, her smile faltering a little. Every one of them were slow, classical tunes. Bulma opened them to look just in case, but that was exactly what was in them. Shrugging she placed one in the player anyway, then fiddled with the wiring and connected it from headset to the speaker system in Mirai's machine. Slowly, sweet panpipe music began to filter out of the speakers and fill the cramped room.

Bulma smiled as the sweet melody calmed her. She sat back and closed her eyes as she listened. She hadn't heard music for quite some time now and even though it wasn't exactly something she was used to listening to, it was really very nice.

In his study two corridors down, Lord Elrond stared curiously at his closed doorway before he opened it and peeked out. A lilting kind of lullaby was playing that he had never heard before. So, with his curiosity piqued he followed it down the hallways wondering who could possibly have stayed to make the music.

It was with mild surprise and a lot of confusion that he found Bulma sitting beside one of the open time machines. The blue haired vixen motioned to him and smiled as he sat beside her with brows furrowed.

"Where is that coming from? I don't see anyone here but you and I." Elrond tilted his head, a light smile curling his lips as the melody continued.

"It's playing in there," Bulma pointed to the compact disc player on the floor of the machine.

Elrond picked it up, it was another of the lady's complicated contraptions made from a material he had never seen in his life. His thumb hit a button on the side and the cover popped open. He jumped, startled as the music cut off quickly and looked guiltily at Bulma. "Forgive me, I did not mean to break it."

Bulma's tinkling laugh reassured him as she took the player from his hands. "It's not broken. Look," She pulled the cd from inside and showed him the shiny surface. "The music is recorded on this side. Like an orchestra that plays the same songs over and over on this disc. When you put it here and close it," She popped the disc back inside and closed the cover. Immediately the music began to play again. "A little laser inside plays the music that's recorded."

Elrond nodded slowly. "So these others," he touched the other discs that lay on the floor, "are other orchestra's caught in these...discs?"

Not knowing how else to explain it, Bulma nodded.

"Then they are trapped there?" Elrond gave the woman an incredulous look.

Bulma laughed again and shook her head. "No! No, they played their music, and the music is stuck. Kind of." She scratched her head. "It's kind of hard to explain."

Elrond nodded and sat back. He still didn't understand, but he doubted he would any better if the woman explained it technically to him. So instead, he simply enjoyed the music that played.

When the elf closed his eyes and smiled, Bulma couldn't help but stare at him. He looked at peace, which made her happy. Ever since the elves had leftand for days beforehe looked about ready to frazzle. Several times when she would watch him sigh deeply and stare out one of the windows she wanted to something to take his mind away from his trouble, at least for a while. Now it looked like she had found the outlet.

The song ended and the elfin lord sighed, this time it wasn't remorseful. "Would you like to listen to something else?" Bulma asked, flipping through the cd's. Elrond nodded, eyes still closed. With a smile, Bulma selected a disc of Beethoven and set it to play.

Elrond's eyes opened and he looked at her intrigued. "What is this?"

"It's the piano."

"Piano?" Elrond tilted his head toward the music while still looking at Bulma.

"Yes, it's an instrument." Bulma smiled as the tempo slowed and Elrond closed his eyes. "Beautiful isn't it?"

The lord nodded and reclined his position until he leaned against the machine beside Bulma. His warm scent swarmed over her and Bulma inhaled deeply. She still remembered the kiss from days ago though nothing else had come of it since. Unconsciously she leaned toward him until their shoulders touched.

Heart pounding in her chest she slowly tilted her head until it rested on his shoulder. Elrond didn't move and slowly she calmed, feeling a little giddy that she had her head on his shoulder. A moment later, Elrond shifted and she mourned that she would probably have to sit up but his head turned and his chin rested on her head while he carefully took her hand in his.

Bulma smiled and closed her eyes to the music, feeling extremely happy and far from the blah mood she had been in earlier. Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata played on...

* * *

Piccolo and Mirai hovered over the rest, watching the melee of battle below. The Nazgul had been reduced to three and these had run for fear of their own deaths. Theoden's men had just arrived, to arms and killing against all odds. The orcs were pouring over the high walls and destroying those that crossed their paths.

High in the citadel, Piccolo barely made out the panicked cries of one Peregrin Took. He took off without thinking about it, motioning for Trunks to stay behind. He found the Hobbit running through the streets, Gandalf on his heels.

Piccolo landed beside them just as they entered Citadel gates. "What's going on?"

Pippin did not stop to answer, only hurried them forward with wide wet eyes and fast feet. Gandalf is the one that answered him, "Denethor is in the burial chamber with his son...evil things are afoot."

The guard Beregon stood outside the heavy oaken doors at the end of the chamber. He saw Gandalf and relief flooded his face. "Mithrandir! He is inside and going mad!"

The smell of kerosene reaked out of the entry and curdled the air. Inside, Denethor stood over his son with demented eyes and weeping over his death. Pippin grasped Piccolo's gi, "You have to help!"

"Halt, Gandalf!" Denethor shouted, arms splayed and dripping. "You defile the sacred chamber of the kings by coming here to stop such a noble thing."

"Noble thing indeed, to murder your son while he still breathes." Gandalf started forward but stopped abruptly as the steward tipped a lantern of burning oil until two bright flames dripped from its lip and onto the pile of wood and rags. Much to the others relief the flames died in their fall and did not light the pyre.

"He is dead!" Denethor shouted, face contorting. "Dead as we all are. Fighting a war that cannot be won."

"He is alive, Denethor, and you would only slay him to save your conscience." Gandalf thundered, stepping forward again.

The man's hand tightened on the lap and a moment later the oil fell onto the wood and lit the kerosene aflame.

"No!" Pippin ran forward, easily avoiding Denethor's limbs and slapped out the flames around Faramir's head with his palms.

Piccolo rushed to aid the Hobbit while Beregon distracted the steward. Bending through the flames, the Namek braced Faramir's shoulders and picked him out of the fire with arms under his neck and knees.

"Quickly, bring him to the House of Healing." Gandalf ushered them to the door, Pippin leading the way.

Denethor stood on the pyre, fire quickly engulfing him. Without a word, the man frowned deeply and bowed to the aged wizard, a distasteful curl on his lip before he lay down amongst the flames.

Gandalf pushed the others through the door and shut it tightly. The others ran for the Healing rooms while Gandalf leaned against the oak, the lines of his face creased deep with thought and sadness. From inside Denethor screamed as the flames began to eat at his flesh but before long the scream had finished and only the great roaring of the fire could be heard.

Then Gandalf shook his head, remembering only too well that a war was being fought just outside the citadel and he took up his staff and left.

* * *

Piccolo lay Lord Faramir on the crisp sheets of the Healing bed. The man had a great fever, large beads of sweat pouring from his temples and forehead. He had a hole punched through his shoulder and another between two of his ribs. They were both seeping blood.

The healers gave Piccolo a wide berth when they saw his load, then quickly ushered him away when Faramir was lain down. They were fast and efficient as they peeled the old cloth away and bound his injuries.

With nothing there to do, Piccolo returned outside and growled in frustration as he saw hordes of orc come running up and out from the lower levels. He barreled into them with his fists and feet.

Flashes of ki came from both sides of him, and Piccolo looked on confused until he recognized Vegeta far to the west blowing up oleophants. That was good news, it meant the others were there and with the greater forces, maybe they could save the middle earth men after all.

To his immense awe, a great wave of transparent men rushed up and over the lip of the nearest wall. Piccolo shot a beam of ki at them, totally taken off guard and feeling his skin bead with gooseflesh. The energy moved through them all and wound up blowing a hole in the wall behind them all the size of a grapefruit.

Their heads turned collectively toward him and a fat bead of sweat ran down Piccolo's temple. They turned away from him a second later, however, and began to tear apart the orc that came stampeding up into the higher levels.

Piccolo took to the skies and watched them as they poured over each Urak-hai like liquid. Still creeped out, but satisfied that the ghosts were on his side, Piccolo flew off toward Vegeta and Goku.

He didn't manage to get to them.

A streak far from the east blew past men of Middle Earth, stopping directly behind two preoccupied saiyajins. A tight, white fist connected with Vegeta's back, pushing him violently into Goku. They flew through the air and into the mountain face beside the city, causing rubble to fall in a great clutter and crack the earth. Piccolo paused, snarling as he glared at Freeza.

The icejin lord laughed as the saiyajins picked themselves out of the shale and glared up at him.

"Freeza." Goku's voice bellowed, deep and biting. The Fellowship stopped to look up at the name, hearing it so often but never knowing whom it belonged to.

Vegeta snarled and drove at him, jumping automatically into supersaiyajin before he even made it halfway to Freeza. His fist hit empty air, but he spun and kicked the icejin lord in the chest where he reappeared.

"Vegeta, wait!" Goku called, quickly coming up to the prince, jumping into super when he stopped beside him. "We can't do this here, there are too many people who will get hurt."

"Fine." Vegeta spat, eyes glued to Freeza as the evil overlord came barreling back at them. He spun in the air and flew off toward the Bay of Belfalas, luring Freeza into the open sea.

Behind Vegeta and Freeza, Goku took off to follow. The third class saiyajin caught sight of Piccolo where the Namek stayed hovering and he nodded to him before he turned into a blurred dot in the distance.

Below, the men of middle earth were slowly gaining the upper hand and there mingled in with them stood Mirai. Piccolo quickly landed next to him, hurling an orc into its companions. It gave him a quick moment to gain Trunks' entire attention. "Freeza was here."

The demi stopped dead. "When?"

"Just now. Your father and Goku are leading him away from here." Piccolo nodded in the direction they had gone, the last of their vapor trails petering out in the skyline.

Trunks nodded, leaping into supersaiyajin. Piccolo backed up a pace but stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Mirai looked back at him with furrowed brows and followed the Namek's gaze to the right. His eyes fell on to identical elves and he relaxed until both feet were back on the earth.

Piccolo let him go and turned away, giving the young prince time by attacking the Urak-hai and driving them back.

Elladan and Elrohir gave him a sly grin and finished off the beasts they had been fighting. Mirai grinned at them, then glanced up at the sky where his father had gone. Elladan crushed him in a tight hug before releasing him and letting his brother attack the saiyajin.

"It is good to see you well." Elladan grinned.

"The same here." Trunks gave them a tight lipped smile.

Elrohirever the intuitive onepushed a lock of hair from Mirai's face and held the side of his neck. "You have much to do." Trunks nodded. Elrohir graced him with a small smile and kissed his cheek before releasing him. He drew his blade and motioned to his brother. "Go then. We will see you when all of this is over."

Trunks nodded and accepted a kiss from the other elf before returning their affection. "Be careful."

The twins nodded and shooed him away, spinning back into the throng of fighting as though they had never stopped.

Mirai watched them disappear, then jumped to the sky and followed after his father.

* * *

"Another world, another gruesome defeat." Freeza called, grinning widely.

Vegeta snorted. "It seems to me you were the one who was defeated. And on two worlds..."

The icejin sneered and dove forward, a flurry of fists avoided by Vegeta before one finally connected to his jaw. The Ouji flew backward ten feet before snapping back and driving his foot into Freeza's chest.

Goku came to a stop beside the prince, eyes staring off at Freeza who had caught his fall and was coming back at them.

"What's the plan?"

"We kill him, Kakkarot." Vegeta snapped, hands balling into tight fists as the icejin lord grew closer.

"That's not what I meant." Goku snapped back. The tension of the situation was not lost on him. Freeza had gotten stronger, faster. The only thing they could really do was sit back and test the evil creature's limits. Then pray that they the strength and will to kill him.

A light flicked on in Goku's head. Freeza was still coming on hard but was still a moment away. "Vegeta, Freeza is still dead."

"What are you talking about, Kakkarot?"

"If we can defeat him again, he'll be gone for good." Goku smirked, hands balling into fists.

One of Vegeta's eyebrows rose and a sick smile curled onto his face. In a streak of light, he met Freeza head on. Blows were blocked, both of them fading in and out as they moved with a speed and accuracy most tacticians could drool over.

They grappled, catching each other's fists and grunting as they strained against the other. Sweat beaded along Vegeta's forehead and fury brewed in his stomach as Freeza continued to match him and slowly best him. The Icejin grinned, all malice and teeth, as slowly Vegeta's wrists bent. "Face it Vegeta, you could never beat me. Not then, and not now."

Vegeta flushed in anger, his ki flexing and sparking as bright yellow swirls of light engulfed him. Freeza laughed at the prince as he struggled. He could see the familiar temper just waiting to burst out of the irate saiyajin. He held Vegeta steady, thick tail whipping behind him and cracking the air.

With a harsh bellow, Vegeta heaved, jerking the Icejin along with him. No matter how he pulled Freeza was never loosed. He grit his teeth and kicked, then howled in frustration. Freeza had trapped his foot between his knees and the only thing he had left to fight him with was the one free leg.

Freeza began to laugh, finding the Ouji's predicament highly amusing. He began to snap his tail in the air around his body while giving Vegeta a knowing grin. Vegeta gnashed his teeth, knowing what was coming. The thick appendage snapped around and slashed across Vegeta's face with a sound clap. Crimson tinted saliva trailed Vegeta's chin when he snapped his head back around to glare. He struggled against Freeza's hold again with new fervor.

The tail returned to view, the tip waggling to mock him. It came back down repeatedly, each time it landed it split new flesh. When Freeza relented great gashes crossed Vegeta's face and chest. Blood trailed from each, deep purple bruises already swelling the flesh.

Freeza drew his head back, crushing his forehead into Vegeta's nose at the same moment he let the Saiyajin go. Head reeling, Vegeta free-fell as black and red blurred his vision. He hit the water below with a clap that pushed the air from his lungs. The vision of Freeza above him flickered with the surface over his head. The cold water served to clear his pounding head and a second later he had breached the waves with fists curled.

Vegeta didn't notice the startled eyes that looked out at him from a nearby underwater cave as he had entered the sea. Nor the intrigued look that passed over a smooth face as he made his way out again. Slowly, the creature stuck its head from the cave entrance and peered up into the sky to watch the golden man fight, a small smile on thin blue lips.


	33. A Prince's Fall

a/n: I am so sorry for the long wait between updates. The funny thing is I wanted to make sure I had a good length of writing that was well enough to post and contribute to my plot, when I realized I had hit a jump spot in my writing and poured out a whole lot more than I thought I did. SO, here's an update that I hope will suffice to ease any ruffled feathers.

* * *

The fighting was ending on the plains of Gondor just as the battle between Freeza and Vegeta began. The Fellowship was scattered more now than it was when they had to split apart days ago. Each had their own things to do. Aragorn and Gandalf were speaking of matters only the King of Gondor could understand as they made their way toward the Halls of Healing. Gimli and Legolas were roaming around the halls outside the healing chambers, trying to stay out of the way of the medics within but mostly concerned about Merry. Pippin was sitting next to Lord Faramir's bed, watching the ill man with eyes filled with worry. He was still a servant of Gondor in his heart and he would stay by the lord's side until they physically removed him.

Piccolo was slowly making his way up the stone stairs, helping men move hunks of rock and tumbled walls as he went. He barely noticed their awed stares when he heaved pieces onto his shoulders to set aside that twenty men could not budge. He was not thinking of anything except Merry as well. He had seen the Rohorrim men move both the Hobbit and the Lady Eowyn from the field but he was in the thick of battle and didn't know what had happened.

The twin sons of Elrond were talking quietly ahead of him. They had started up the stairs before he had, and now it seemed he had caught up to them.

"Master Namek." Elrohir nodded to him as he noticed Piccolo coming up behind.

Piccolo grunted, eyes trained on the Halls of Healing that still loomed above him.

The elves exchanged a smile, recognizing the worried look that etched a line between Piccolo's eye ridges. "Might I bend your ear, Piccolo?" Elladan asked. The Namek's gaze flicked to him and he nodded. "I realize that Trunks had to leave quickly, but I am not sure why."

A deep sigh pulled from Piccolo's chest. "He's gone to help Goku and Vegeta."

A raven head cocked to the side. Elladan pursed his lips and looked over his shoulder toward the sky where Mirai had disappeared a time ago. "Help them with what?"

"Freeza." Piccolo spat. It seemed no matter how many times he said the name it still left a sour taste in his mouth and made his blood raise a few degrees.

The silence that fell between them after the name remained until they made it to the citadel.

The Halls of Healing were busy. Assistants were rushing from one room to another carrying trays of materials and herbs for the healers. Healers themselves were few and the wounded were many, it made speed a necessity.

Besides those that were there to help, the halls were also filled with worried souls wanting nothing more than to comfort their friends and companions. Among them, two familiar mismatched souls caught Piccolo's attention and made him stop at the entrance to simply stare.

Leaning against a wall and talking quietly to his companion, Legolas was oblivious to the appreciative looks he was receiving just feet away. Piccolo did a quick scan of the half he could see and sighed lightly when he saw no injuries. The elf was a little ruffled and dusty from fighting but it only added to the ethereal beauty that Legolas had.

A stifled giggle came from beside him and Piccolo glared at Elladan as the son of Elrond smirked at him. He motioned to the blonde elf at the end of the hall with the flat of his hand. "He's not part of your imagination, Master Namek."

Piccolo snorted at him as he turned back to Legolas. It had been a fluke that he looked back at the same moment Legolas turned his head to look down the hall. The elf blinked and pushed himself off of the wall. A slow smile curled onto his face and Piccolo felt his heart hit his feet and rush back up into his chest. He couldn't help but smile back.

The bustling in the hall slowed as curious stares followed Piccolo to Legolas, then did double takes when the Namek cupped the Elf's cheek for a quick second before dropping his hand. Piccolo touched the badge on Legolas' chest and grinned to himself.

"It is good to see you," Legolas spoke quietly. His eyes scowered Piccolo's face and took in the torn and ratty clothing. Below the holes there were no wounds, only smudges of dirt and dried blood. "I was worried." He admitted with a small sigh.

"You should be." Piccolo's face held no trace of humor and Legolas pursed his lips.

Gimli muscled his way between them and patted Piccolo's thigh much the same he did to Legolas when trying to distract him. "The young Hobbit is sleeping. He's injured his arm but no healer here knows how to fix it."

The news didn't sit well. Piccolo watched the perplexed healers move from one room to the next. They were worried and frazzled, nearly ready to come apart at the seams from frustration. Piccolo didn't bother to interfere with them, instead, he neatly passed by them and pushed his way into Merry's room without noticing the startled reply of the healers.

The Hobbit lay on white linen much like Piccolo had lain Faramir upon earlier that day. Merry's face was ashen and grey with hard lines around his mouth were he frowned in pain even in his sleep. Piccolo looked down at the injured arm bandaged in more white cloth. There were no stains of blood on the linen and Piccolo frowned as he gently lay his hand across Merry's forearm. An icy cold permeated from the boy's arm and numbed Piccolo's fingertips within moments and the Namek drew his hand away when Merry moaned in his sleep. What odd affliction is this, which kills a limb without a wound to show for it?

Behind him, Piccolo could hear the medics making an uproar about him barging into Merry's room and somewhere between their loud ravings, he could here Legolas' quiet tone. A moment later a warm palm settled on his shoulder and Legolas beckoned him from the room. "They've asked us to leave with the promise of any news on Merry if he takes a turn in either direction." The elf spoke softly, words that nestled into Piccolo's worried mind and eased his frustration. They must have had a similar effect on the sleeping Hobbit since Merry sighed in his slumber and the deep frown of his lips eased.

Finally, Piccolo nodded and allowed himself to be led from Merry's side. Once the door to Merry's room was shut he frowned deeply down at the medics that screeched up at him. Snarling, he hissed at them, "Enough. I'm leaving but if I don't hear from you when Merry wakes up, I will be back." Piccolo loomed over them, meaning the subtle threat. All of the Hobbits were his now, always would be, and he refused to let anyone deny him the right to see them safe and well. Even ChiChi's lunatic ravings to Gohan hadn't stopped either one of them from meeting at the waterfall, and there was very little more scary than a raving ChiChi when she was protecting her children.

He didn't bother to see if others were following him. The dark and foreboding sky wasn't exactly the reprieve he was looking for, but Piccolo took what he could get. Sitting on the broken edge of the wall he shifted over a bit as Legolas sat beside him.

"Are you well?" Legolas looked up at him. Piccolo looked tired, physically and emotionally. Perhaps even mentally, but that was a hard thing to judge with a creature that spoke so little of his inner turmoil.

"Mm." Piccolo grunted. In the distance he could feel Vegeta and Goku fighting what could be the last fight of their lives. He wanted to be there, to see and help, but he knew he was no match for Freeza. He wasn't all those years ago and he wasn't now. He understood for the first time how hard it must have been on Bulma and ChiChi to sit and wait for news that their husbands were dead.

Legolas watched his lover with concerned eyes. He felt for this creature what he hadn't for anyone else and he was helpless to aid him through whatever pain he was experiencing. He was a truly incompetent friend at the moment and it was driving him insane.

Piccolo looked at the elf with his peripheral vision and saw the muted distress play on his features. He knew the elf wanted to ease him, but he wasn't even sure himself how it could be achieved. But having Legolas there was a giant step in the right direction to be sure.

"Piccolo?" Legolas shifted, until he could look unhindered at the Namek's face. Piccolo made a noncommital noise in the back of his throat in response. Legolas knelt and pushed Piccolo's arms from where they were crossed at his chest. Onyx eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he let Legolas move them without question. The elf crawled forward, sitting down on Piccolo's lap and idly played with the hard, calloused fingers of Piccolo's right hand.

Piccolo let out an amused grunt that rumbled through Legolas back. The elf relaxed further when he knew Piccolo wouldn't push him away; then smiled to himself when Piccolo's arms curled around his waist and held him.

Gimli, son of Gloin, watched them quietly from the entry of the Citadel. He grunted and smiled lightly to himself. The two would take care of each other. From his travels with Legolas and visiting the Golden Wood he could strongly guess that elves were not light in their affections, especially the physical kind. And though he had known only this one Namek for a short time, he knew that he was just the same.

Gimli nodded to himself and turned in the doorway to look behind when he heard the sound of shuffling feet. Young Peregrin Took was walking toward with a tired smile. The young boy looked far older than he had when they had started the trip.

"I thought I heard Piccolo," The Hobbit smiled.

Gimli nodded, pointing beyond to the two seated on the rubble. "They are both there." He was about to curb the boy's desire to see the Namek to give Piccolo and Legolas time alone but he was mildly surprised when he didn't have to.

"Good. They could both use a distraction. Come, Gimli. Let's find something to eat." Pippin motioned to the dwarf and started down the stairs with his sluggish step. The dwarf smiled to himself, apparently, the Hobbit did not only look older, but had grown inside as well.

With a final look behind, he followed Pippin down the stairs.

* * *

Goku was scowling while his muscles were jumping and twitching in time to the blows Vegeta was recieving. The ouji was bleeding and slowly swelling with blue bruises across his cheeks and chin. It took all of his resolve not to leap in and blast Freeza, just so he could curl protectively around Vegeta and lap at his wounds to prove to himself that his mate would be fine. A carnal, primitave urge to be sure, but that thought alone didn't quell it.

Water sprayed up as Vegeta clapped back into the ocean. Goku snarled as Freeza laughed, again. He couldn't wait any longer, not while Vegeta was being too stubborn and prideful to ask for help. He leapt into an ascended saiyajin and took at Freeza with lips peeled back from his teeth, just itching to bite a chunk away and feel the villians icy blood pool across his tongue.

Freeza was waiting for him by the time Goku was clenching his fists and aiming for the icejin's face. Goku feinted, bringing both fists together and spinning away to slam Freeza in the back of the head. The villain grunted as he fell, but gathered himself quickly and shot back through the air at Goku with a snarl on his face.

Vegeta hissed as he came from the water. The salty brine stung in his wounds like acid, but it was easily ignored when he saw Goku in fisticuffs with Freeza. He couldn't tell what made him angrier, the fact that Goku had jumped into his place before he was out of the fight, or that Freeza dared touch what was his...again.

As Freeza's hand snapped out and fingers curled into Goku throat, Vegeta realized it was the latter that made his blood pound in his ears. When Goku kicked away and blasted Freeza, Vegeta's tension dropped a degree and he ground his teeth together in frustration. _Kakkarot__ is not his brother._

The air crackled with energy the likes of which Middle Earth had never seen. Vegeta itched to jump back into the fighting, but he knew, and grudgingly accepted, that he needed a moment to gather his strength.

From the north, Vegeta could feel Trunks coming. He didn't bother to look for him, knowing that the boy would be there soon enough. Besides, his priority at the moment was waiting for Freeza to make a wrong move so that he could take extreme advantage of it.

"Father!" Mirai sidled up to the prince, palms already itching. He carefully took in his father's injury without seeming too obvious. Kami, he had been beaten into lumped dough already and it looked as though Freeza hadn't broken a sweat yet.

Goku was suddenly blown back into them. Vegeta held the taller man by the arm, obsidian eyes like chips of slate. The air around them thickened as Vegeta pushed his ki out. Goku was bleeding at the corner of his mouth. The copper tang was letting loose a feral answer deep inside him. _Freeza__ had touched him, touched Kakkarot and hurt him! Made him bleed._

"We need to plan--" Goku started, but Vegeta had released him and was barreling back into the fight. "Damn it Vegeta!" He hissed.

Trunks frowned as he watched his father fight. Freeza was stronger than he anticipated. "What do we need to do, Goku?"

The older saiyajin glanced toward him at the solemn tone. "We need to plan. We can't take him one on one."

"Got any ideas?"

"One." Goku paused, staring after Vegeta intensely. "But I'm going to need Vegeta's help."

"Say the word and I'll distract Freeza." Trunks stated, chest puffed out and hands curled into fists. A large hand settled onto his shoulder and Mirai looked up at Goku.

"You've turned into one hell of a man, Trunks." He smiled at the light blush that rose into Mirai's face. "I'll let you know."

A fast moment later, a sick crack split the air and stilled the seas and winds all at once. Goku gaped, almost dropping from ascended saiyajin and back to normal from shock.

In Freeza's hands, Vegeta was gaping, eyes bulging from his head. One of Freeza's fists was covered in blood, dripping it from one hundred feet in the air where is slipped into the sea and disappeared. The fist was sticking straight out of Vegeta's back. The Ouji hung impaled, staring down in horror and disbelief as his blood ran down Freeza's white arm and dripped from the creature's elbow.

"Got you again, Vegeta." A mirthless laugh curdled in Goku's head as it spilled from Freeza's lips.

"Impossible." Goku breathed, whole body numb with shock. Freeza covered Vegeta's face with his free hand and pushed the prince from his arm with a wet sucking sound. Time snapped back with slap of pain as Goku saw Vegeta falling to the earth like a disjointed doll.

Goku screamed, tumbling from the air as his heart was rent into pieces. Vegeta hit the earth with a sick crunch, the ground around him splitting from the impact. Goku hit the ground at a run, falling to his knees beside Vegeta's limp body. Blood poured thick and pungent into the sand. He had tasted that blood in moments of perverse pleasure and to see it pooling in waste, paling a slack face made it that much more a sacrilege.

"Vegeta?" He whispered, hand hovering over the Ouji's face almost afraid to touch. Above him, Goku could hear Trunks screaming in pained rage. He couldn't bring himself to look up to see what was happening, his eyes were too busy staring down at Vegeta.

Bruised knuckles brushed across Vegeta's cheek and Goku's breath hitched at how cold his flesh was already. "Vegeta." He said again, with more force, willing him to wake. To his immense relief one swollen eye cracked open. A dull obsidian eye tried to focus on Goku's face where it loomed above him.

A smirk twitched at the corner of Vegeta's lips and his mouth opened and closed painfully, blood staining his teeth. A slow gurgle pushed further crimson onto his tongue. He coughed weakly, clearing his throat as he blinked at Goku's face. In the sand, Vegeta's gloved hand curled lightly and twitched as he tried to raise it. "'karot..."

Goku held in a sob and nodded, "Yea, 'Geta. It's me." He smiled sadly as Vegeta grinned. The hole in Vegeta's chest slowly stopped oozing. Goku pressed his hand over it, the blood that stuck to his palm was thick and cold. "'Geta?"

He glanced up to Vegeta's face. The ouji was grinning, a royal smugness and haughtiness that almost made Goku think he was doing better. "No pain."

Goku blinked, panic gripping his insides. "W-what?"

A hard cough brought Vegeta curling up off of the sand before falling back. He turned his head with agonizing slowness. "No pain." Goku pushed a heavy lock of hair from Vegeta's face and cupped his cheek. The glitter of Vegeta's eye was fading.

"'Geta?" He shook him, knowing full well it was the wrong thing to do but doing it anyway. "Vegeta!" A slow lungful of air seeped out of Vegeta's mouth, bubbles frothing at the corners of his lips.

Then nothing.

Goku held his breath, willing Vegeta to breathe, just once more. It was in vain. He pulled Vegeta up from the sand and held him to his chest, the Ouji hanging limp in his arms. Goku clutched at the back of Vegeta's head, fingers burying into the thick mane. In his mind something snapped, and it was painful and clearifying at the same moment. Goku pulled Vegeta tighter, nearly cracking the Ouji's ribs, and with a snarl he bit him at the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

There was barely enough blood left to well at the wound, but a bead managed and Goku lapped it away, mouth suckling on the cold flesh without success. He lowered Vegeta to the ground, and watched the peaceful look on his face.

A startling blast blew past his head and cratered the ground beyond him. Snapping his head around, Goku glared at Freeza where the beast was laughing. In one of his hands, Mirai was struggling to breathe as Freeza's thick fingers dug into his throat. With a snarl and a yell, Goku leapt into the air and after the creature that dared harm his Prince.

Below him on the wet sand, Vegeta's body lay in a heap. Aqua eyes glittered just under the waters' surface and thin blue lips frowned deeply. The Golden Warrior was dead on the land. An internal struggle wavered on the creature's face before it looked cautiously for the Warrior's mate. The large man was busy. With determination, the sea-bearer climbed onto the sand and sidled slowly toward the prone figure. A webbed hand reached out and settled carefully onto the cold chest. Aquamarine eyes widened and a glittery blue face looked up at the Warrior's mate with incredulity.

As Goku and Trunks fought Freeza with a fury only loss can breed; a creature from the sea sat at Vegeta's side, scales itching from the sand and mind whirling about these powerful beasts that could perform such miracles. Beside it, Vegeta no Ouji lay shallowly breathing.

* * *

"No." Piccolo stood from the dinner table, surrounded by men of great power from nations all along Middle Earth. Legolas startled beside him and stood slowly, seeing the color leach out of his friend's face so quickly he thought the Namek was going to be sick.

"Is something the matter?" Aragorn called from the head of the table. He had been talking quietly with Gandalf and Eomer who sat on either side of him when the Namek had startled the whole room with his outburst.

Piccolo didn't answer, too busy clenching and unclenching his fists. His breathing had grown hard and ragged while his onyx eyes snapped back and forth across the room, looking at nothing.

Murmurs started from those seated. They had been wary enough of the creature when he had entered late with the Mirkwood Prince, but allowed it quietly as Aragorn vouged for them both. Now, the creature was having some sort of fit, and by his size--and even taking their own skill into account--they were leery of just how they could bring him down if it came to blows.

Legolas hesitantly reached for Piccolo's shoulder, startled when it was jerked away at his touch. He stared up at the Namek, hurt at his actions and failure to speak.

Those that knew of the two's connection stared wide eyed. Gandalf stood from his seat, staff clutched tightly in his hand. "Master Namek, is there something you would like to share with the rest of us?" The wizard made his voice hard, using his commanding tone that both soothed and quailed every other beast he had used it on. Not so on our Namek.

Angry eyes flashed at Gandalf as Piccolo turned. The chair he had been sitting on clattered to the floor as he moved around it. He had made it as far as the entry when Aragorn called to him. He paused, back tensed.

"What is the meaning of this hostility?"

Piccolo's eye twitched. It was still gone, cold space where a raging fire had been. He turned, eyes narrowed as he looked at the Gondorian king. "I'm leaving."

Before he could turn back to the door and move through it, Aragorn had hold of his wrist and somewhere behind the man's left shoulder, Legolas stood with a cool, closed off face. "We'll need you here to help with our final ride to Mordor."

A harsh snort hardened the ranger's face. He had intended to sooth Piccolo's worries, giving him something to do when he was obviously feeling so helpless. Piccolo shook off his hand. "It won't matter. Even if you manage to kill everyone and Frodo throws your ring into the mountain...you're all dead. We all are."

"What are you talking about?" Legolas all but spat. Piccolo was slightly surprised at the anger behind the words. He could see the anger in the elf's eyes, the suspicion and hurt he had bred there. He felt a pang of regret and guilt in his gut, but there was no time for soothing his scorned elf.

"Vegeta is dead." The words were flat and emotionless.

"What?" Aragorn asked, face screwed up in confusion. Over his shoulder, Piccolo got a sick satisfaction that Legolas had recieved the news properly the first time. The elf had paled, his crystalline eyes faded.

"He's dead."

The twins stood from the table, unable to keep their sensitive ears from eavesdropping. Soon the whole table was curious at their reaction. Piccolo spun and stalked from the room, ignoring the calls for him to wait.

The halls were empty when Piccolo charged through them. He couldn't sit idly by now, not anymore. It would take every hand they could get to fight Freeza, even if that meant he was killed.

"Piccolo?" A curious voice called to him. The Namek was ready to snap, but the owner of the voice came out of the shadows and Piccolo forcefully calmed himself as Pippin stepped forward.

"Are you feeling well?" The Hobbit asked quietly. His large eyes were sleepy, but a smile was still on his round face.

"I'm fine."

Pippin nodded slowly. His eyes brightened suddenly and he grasped Piccolo by the hand, tugging him--unsuccessfully--toward the citadel. "Come on," Pippin encouraged, "Merry woke up a few minutes ago. I'm sure he'd like to see you."

Piccolo shook his head, about to tell him no, but the boys large eyes blinked up at him. Damn Gohan for starting all of this. With a sigh, Piccolo followed the Hobbit back toward the Healing Hall. His soft spot for the innocence of children having been prodded thoroughly.

When they entered the long hall lined with doors, Piccolo felt a strange spark somewhere in his mind. It was like a soft breath of air from a butterfly wing, barely noticable and hardly tangible, but he had felt it. Piccolo stopped in his tracks, not noticing the queer look he got from Pippin as the Hobbit tugged at him and spoke to him in harsh whispers to gain his attention. After a moment, Piccolo blinked, perhaps he had imagined it.

"Are you alright?" Pippin whispered, eyes wide in worry. Piccolo nodded, ignoring the curious look he was getting from the Hobbit.

He allowed himself to be led toward Merry's door. The low frame stood unobstructed and Merry could be seen sitting up amongst his pillows. The Hobbit still looked exhausted but he was awake and some of that familiar sparkle was in his eyes. "Oy, Pip."

Pippin ran into the room, intent on jumping up onto the bed beside his cousin, but settled for carefully settling next to him. "I've brought a guest," Pippin beamed.

Merry smiled sleepily as Piccolo stooped through his doorway.

"How are you feeling?"

"Sore," Merry admitted. The Hobbit flexed his shoulder and curled his fingers, grimacing at the spikes of pain that raced across them. Piccolo noted the pain, but nodded his encouragement to the boy. He shifted from one foot to the other, anxious to start his journey to the saiyajins again.

Merry was watching him, as was Pippin. Piccolo was mildly surprised when Merry spoke. "You're leaving aren't you?"

Piccolo nodded stiffly. "They need my help."

Pippin's face fell. "You're going to fight that thing? But you said he was too strong for you before we split up a week ago."

With a soft sigh, Piccolo rested his large hand on the Hobbit's head. "I have to."

Pippin shoved the hand from his hair and glared up at him. "But he'll hurt you! You could be killed."

Piccolo didn't respond, only stood there frowning at them both. "Did you tell Legolas?" Merry spoke softly.

Piccolo shifted on his feet. He hadn't told the elf, not directly anyway. Merry and Pippin both frowned harshly at him. "If you're going to fight, you should tell him." Pippin spoke matter-of-factly.

"I know." Piccolo sighed. He looked up to two sets of glares. With a roll of the eyes, Piccolo crossed his arms over his chest. "I will."

"Good," Pippin smiled, "you should do it straight away. Especially if you're leaving so quickly."

Piccolo turned from them and made his way to the doorway, Pippin's voice called out to him as he entered the hall. "Be careful."

Whether he meant with the fight against Freeza or with Legolas, Piccolo could only guess.


	34. Revival

a:n Long waits…I keep saying I'll hurry and yet I can't seem to get the thumb out of my ass and do it. P Here's another installment, at least I know where I'm headed now… THANKS to everyone who is still reviewing, I know how annoying it is to wait and wait for a story to update…you'd think I'd use that knowledge to pump out chapters faster. sigh

* * *

Legolas was sitting at the same spot he and Piccolo had shared nearly an hour before. The spot wasn't nearly as comfortable as it had been then, but he wasn't sitting on Piccolo's lap this time either. He had quietly followed Piccolo from the hall, oddly surprised that the Namek hadn't noticed, and watched as Pippin pulled him away to see Merry.

The elf was happy that the Hobbit was awake and was hoping that the news would help Piccolo's distress. He was angry with Piccolo, but mostly worried. There was so much he didn't understand about the alien's moods and habits. Even more he couldn't begin to comprehend about his strength and the other eerily strong creatures from his world.

With a pang in his chest, Legolas thought that maybe it was for the best that Piccolo had been abrupt with him. The Namek couldn't stay with him forever. As soon as the war was won, all of the strangers would return to Rivendell and be whisked away home. Could he bear such a rough and abrupt departure if he let Piccolo wheedle his way further into his heart?

There was the sound of footfalls behind him and Legolas stiffened when he realized whom they belonged to. The feet came to a halt and Legolas didn't know if he should acknowledge the other or not.

Piccolo stepped forward a few more feet until he stood just behind Legolas. He had seen him sitting there when he paused and was going to blurt out his intentions and take off, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Instead, he stood there, mouth slightly open as he tried to think of something to say.

"You are leaving." Legolas said softly, face turned up to the sky.

"Yes." Piccolo replied, equally as soft. How was it in the moment he was away from Legolas he could forget just how enchanting and beautiful he was? He struggled with his pride for a long moment before he spoke again. "I'm sorry for being too rough before."

Legolas nodded. He rolled the apology around in his head and sighed.

"I--" Piccolo started, then stopped as that breath of air crossed his mind again. It was so marginal he thought he had imagined it, but it came again in time for him to latch onto it and follow it back to its source.

Legolas turned to face Piccolo when the Namek grew quiet. Piccolo was standing, staring into the open air at nothing. Legolas stood on the lip of the building and stood at Piccolo's height, obstructing the view of whatever held the Namek's fascination. His black eyes, however, were unresponsive. Worried, Legolas reached toward him cautiously, still feeling the slight sting from being shrugged off previously.

Cool fingers touched Piccolo's cheek and he blinked, eyes clearing. Legolas breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He was about to ask what had happened, but awed eyes held his and quieted his questions. The Namek looked positively shocked about something.

"What is it?"

"Vegeta." Piccolo whispered. Legolas nodded, remembering the loss he had felt when Piccolo had told them all he had died. Large hands gripped Legolas forearms, "He's still alive."

Shaking his head in confusion, Legolas tried to understand what the hell his lover was talking about. "What do you mean?"

"Alive," Piccolo spoke, "I don't know how. He was dead. For a minute, gone."

Legolas looked stunned, and still highly confused. Piccolo picked him off of the stones with no effort and crushed him to his chest in a tight hug. His antenna brushed across the tip of Legolas' ear and the elf forcibly ignored the warmth that heated his belly. Just as suddenly, Piccolo dropped him back onto his stone perch and held his face in his long fingers before kissing him.

Head reeling, Legolas had what he could to hold onto Piccolo's tunic to keep from falling off of the ledge and kiss him back.

When Piccolo pulled away he faced toward the south, hands still cupping Legolas face. He turned back, seemingly oblivious to what he had done seconds ago. "I need to go. If Vegeta is alive he can't stay there to die."

Legolas nodded numbly. "Of course not."

Someone cleared their throat and both of them turned toward the sound to see an amused Aragorn in the archway that led to the dining hall. "I am heartened to see you have settled your problems."

Legolas smiled secretly, acutely aware of how close Piccolo was standing and that the Namek's hands had found their way into his hair. He turned his face up to the Namek and nodded. "Go then, quickly."

Shaking his hands free, Piccolo nodded.

"Wait a moment." Aragorn said. He stepped forward, something small in his hand. "I was told to give you this nearly two weeks ago. I had forgotten until now. Perhaps it will help you." With that, the Ranger tossed a small brown bag at Piccolo.

The Namek caught it with ease and pulled the tiny draw strings open. He dumped the contents into his palm and clenched his jaw. "Where did you get these?"

Aragorn watched as the Namek sniffed and prodded at the small pile of green beans in his hand. "Elrond gave them to me before we walked the Paths of the Dead. He said the Lady Bulma had sent them. Are they of use to you?"

Piccolo carefully returned the beans to their pouch and tucked it into his pocket. He smiled grimly, "You have no idea." He touched the bulge in his pocket, as though to make sure the beans were still there and not just a figment of his imagination. And with one last look at Legolas he lept into the sky and blasted toward Goku and Freeza.

* * *

Goku felt unbelievably tired. He frowned to himself as he staved off Freeza's blows. He shouldn't be this tired, maybe it was Middle Earth having an effect on his system?

At the back of his mind he could feel something probing at him, but he was too preoccupied with keeping his ground to explore it. Freeza was turning out to be a real handful, even with Trunks' help. Both of the saiyajins were keeping the icejin on his toes, but it was only enough to make him sweat and not nearly enough to beat him. Silently Goku mourned Vegeta again. Not only was his mate dead, but with him gone they would surely loose. From what he could see, only a fusion might save them. But that was impossible.

A rough blow hit Goku in the jaw and made his teeth ache. In retaliation, he drew up his energy and sent several short blasts into Freeza's face. It did very little.

"Give up, monkeys," Freeza spat, "and I promise I will make your death quick and painless."

Furious, both Goku and Trunks increased their attack. They were preoccupied with Freeza, and did not notice a green blur in the distance.

Piccolo drew up to the fight and stopped to watch a moment. He frowned harshly. Freeza was much stronger than he had been. Turning his eyes away, he began to scour the surrounding area for Vegeta and he found him on the shore.

Quickly, he landed next to the prostrate body and checked for vital signs. The saiyajin prince was breathing very shallowly but it seemed steady. Piccolo surveyed the great hole in Vegeta's chest and grimaced, that must have hurt like hell.

Withdrawing the bag from his pocket, Piccolo shook a bean into his palm and quickly replaced the bag before shoving the little green vegetable between Vegeta's lips. Being careful, Piccolo reached out help Vegeta chew it when a garbling hiss caught his attention.

Looking up, Piccolo stared openly at a creature he had never seen before. It was rather pretty, in an aquamarine kind of way, and Piccolo wondered idly if this is what Gohan had meant decades ago when he talked of mermaids.

The thing gurgled and hissed again, thin blue lips peeling away from small pointed teeth. For a minute, Piccolo thought it wanted Vegeta for a meal the way it was glaring and working its way painfully along the sand. But his mind changed a second later when the things eyes flicked away from Piccolo and looked at Vegeta in a kind of reverence before it glared at him again.

_Kami, it's protecting him_, Piccolo thought. If the sea creature was only trying to help, then Piccolo would try his best not to kill it, but at the moment, Vegeta's survival was more important. Ignoring the creature that was still struggling back up the shore, Piccolo opened Vegeta's mouth and nested the sensu bean against the saiyajins molars before pressing his jaws shut again.

"Come on, Vegeta." Piccolo growled. He helped Vegeta chew again and hissed down at him, trying to draw a response. "Come on, pathetic monkey. Can't even take one blow to the chest and your done."

One of Vegeta's hands clenched into a fist where it lay on the sand. Piccolo smirked. "Wake up. You're missing all the action." Slowly, Vegeta's mouth worked on its own, tongue trying to free it from whatever bitterness was drying it out. Seconds passed, and Piccolo watched as the great hole in Vegeta's chest began to knit from the inside out.

The sea creature had finally made it to Vegeta's side and was staring in awe between them as though they were both the most interesting things he had ever seen. It's mouth worked and before long it was speaking in gurgling words reminiscent of a man drowning. "I have not heard of an orc healer."

Piccolo scowled at it. "I am not an orc."

Between them on the sand, Vegeta stirred. "No, he's a slug," Vegeta's voice was a grating whisper. Piccolo sneered at him but carefully helped the saiyajin sit up.

"What's going on?" He asked a moment later, body feeling much better but head still fuzzy.

"You were dead, for a moment." Piccolo said honestly, voice tight.

Vegeta snorted, clenching his eyes shut when the action made his head throb. "And you brought me back to life?"

"No." Piccolo shook his head. "I don't know what did. I just got here."

Eyes narrowed in suspicion, Vegeta carefully looked at the creature beside him, but it scooted away a pace and hung its head in submission. "Was it you? What are you?"

"What I am matters not, but I did not heal you. The large one, he did." The shining creature with a round face blinked jeweled eyes at him in amazement.

"What are you talking about?" Vegeta growled, he was achy in places, but the feeling was fading and in the sky he could see Trunks as he battled Freeza. Goku flew in from another direction, kicking Freeza in the chest and pushing the alien back several feet. Vegeta's heart clenched tightly and his head ached quite suddenly.

He tore his eyes away from Goku and breathed deeply. The pain subsided and at the back of his mind he could feel the stir of something that was not there before. When he concentrated on it he could dimly hear thoughts...thoughts that were not his own.

_If only I could kill you, you bastard for what you've done! I'm so sorry Vegeta..._

The ouji's eyes snapped up and he watched, nearly transfixed as Goku fought against Freeza. Places in his mind and body that had lain dormant for decades of his life began to stretch and unwind. A delicious ache throbbed at the juncture of his neck and shoulder and Vegeta reached up to touch it. Pinpoints of light blurred his vision and a perverse pleasure tingled his spine even as the spot spiked with pain. Above him, he faintly heard Goku gasp.

"You fool..." Vegeta whispered, fingers coming away stained with a bit of crimson. A strange smile curled onto his face even as he willed it not to.

Piccolo was staring at him with confusion. "Are you alright?"

Vegeta grunted. He stood and brushed the sand from his hair and the seat of his pants. "I need you to do something."

Piccolo stood and nodded. "What do you need me to do?"

"Keep Freeza's attention for a minute." Vegeta grinned.

Raising a brow at how maniacal the saiyajin prince looked at that moment, he nodded. Immediately, Piccolo began to gather energy. He wasn't a match for Freeza blow for blow, or for speed, but he did have a pretty good energy blast when he needed it.

A moment later, Piccolo touched two of his fingers to his forehead and nodded at Vegeta. The saiyajin didn't wait another moment, and took into the air with a blast that kicked up sand and waves for a ten foot radius.

Piccolo watched and grunted as Vegeta tackled Goku away from Freeza and pointed his fingers at the icejin before the tyrant could decipher what had happened. Piccolo grinned ferally as he yelled, "Special beam cannon!"

* * *

Goku's mind reeled as he was blown backward. Whatever had hit him was clinging to him tightly. His mind registered Piccolo's special beam cannon attack as it struck Freeza and blew him skyward until he was a dot.

He was jerked to a stop, still floating in the air, when a familiar velvet voice purred into his ear. "Kakkarot."

Spinning in the loose hold Goku gaped at Vegeta's grinning face. "Vegeta! But, you were dead."

"I don't have time to explain it now," Vegeta clipped, instead he was cupping Goku's face with one hand while the other held Goku tightly by the front of his tunic. Confused, Goku opened his mouth but the hand on his face quickly embedded in his hair and yanked his head to the side. A second later, hot pain flared at the base of his neck.

"'Geta," He mumbled, mind hazing with pain and pleasure. Greedy lips were bruising his flesh as the hand in his hair pulled his head down. In an instant reaction that Goku didn't quite understand, his teeth bit into the soft tissue of Vegeta's throat in the same spot he had bit him a short time ago.

Blood pooled across his tongue, hot and spicy. He purred in pleasure as it warmed his stomach. He was yanked away too soon, eyes wide and angry but Vegeta was smirking at him with blood on his lips. They kissed roughly, biting at each others lips and tasting their commingled blood.

Vegeta roughly pushed him away again. "Sorry, Kakkarot, but it's your own fault. We don't have time."

Mind slowly clearing from the rush, Goku frowned at him. "What's my fault?"

Vegeta grinned again and Goku felt his body shiver in response. "I'll explain that later as well. Now, we have a fight to win."

* * *

At Gondor, night was growing quickly though it was hard to tell. The thick cloud cover that had increased over the hours had effectively blotted out the setting sun. The sleepy city was uneasy after confrontation and the ever glowing lamps in the high windows of the Halls of Healing served as a reminder of what had been lost.

Pippin had fallen asleep curled at the foot of Merry's bed. The healers had merely smiled and left the Hobbit be. Two layers of earth below the two, Gimli was snoring soundly in his narrow bed. Even though most others of the city were turning without catching the slippery line of unconsciousness, no one would begrudge the dwarf his rest.

The tower at the apex of the mountains glowed softly in the intrusive dark. Aragorn had moments ago peered into his seer's globe and challenged Sauron's will with his own. The fire of the eye had seared into his mind and had left him with a constant throb at the base of his skull. He felt deep in him that what he had done was the right thing, even though his active mind had its doubts. He was trying to quail his depressive thoughts with happy memories. His hand perpetually wrapped around Arwen's pendant.

In a chamber beside the orthanc's room where Aragorn sat brooding, three elves were seated in lush chairs. They were silent, the only sound in the room the low crackle of the fire and their shallow breathing. The twin sons of Elrond were mind-fasting, delicate smiles on their faces as they shared each others memories and experiences. At the moment, most of which revolved around the lithe and hardened body of one saiyajin princeling. It wouldn't necessarily make things easier in their wait for the young man to return, but it did make for interesting viewing.

Thranduil's son sat watching the two with mild amusement, partly intent on distracting his mind from the departed Namek. He could never fully succeed, but at least he could content himself with distraction. Until Aragorn called them together in the morning to start their trek to the gates of Mordor, he only had his mind to contend with.


	35. Understanding and Connections

Piccolo cried out in pain, gritting his teeth at the last moment to try and stop it. Freeza was snarling at him, saliva literally foaming at his lips. The ball of his shoulder was slowly slipping free of the cartilage and he wasn't sure what bothered him the most, the fact that he could feel it with acute accuracy, or that he was too busy thinking about his shoulder separating and not how to blast the evil tyrant off of his back.

Freeza was hissing into his ear, nonsensical words in his rage, and jerking violently on his elbow. The special beam cannon had caught the Icejin by surprise and roughly between his breast plate and navel. It had done little else than char his topmost flesh and push him skyward, but Piccolo was pretty sure it was the beast's own slip up to allow himself to get hit that was bothering him more than the fact that he was.

"Freeza!" A garbled voice spat. Piccolo couldn't see who it was, but was slightly glad that someone had finally come to his rescue. The effeminate lord growled, and jerked up as he spun. The ball-socket released with a soft pop and Piccolo howled.

He was set free quite suddenly a second later and fell half a dozen feet before supporting himself mid-air and clutching at his useless arm as he looked up to see his savior. A grim line creased his forehead and he narrowed his lips into a thin line. Gogeta was hovering in all of his splendor.

That would explain the voice.

The double-saiyajin smirked, eye teeth exaggerated in the oddly familiar face. "Welcome to your death." It lurched at Freeza, hands already balled into fists. The Icejin met him head on, and Piccolo lost them in a blur.

Mirai floated to a stop beside him with eyes wide. "What is that?"

Piccolo turned his head to look the young man over before allowing his eyes to unfocus so that he might follow the fighting duo (trio really). "That is your father and Goku."

"What?" Trunks sounded highly confused, but he allowed himself to indulge the idea as he followed the fighting as carefully as he could.

"I forget all that you've missed since you've gone home." Piccolo spoke with a hiss. He rotated his injured shoulder and felt it creak and pop as it shifted and pushed itself back into place. He assisted it with his free hand and settled it with a snap. New pain blossomed across his deltoid but he ignored it as he worked the kinks free.

"You'll have to ask someone else to fill you in later. All you need to know now is that Goku and Vegeta have fused into one being. And that person is who you see now."

Mirai nodded. He could feel the truth of what Piccolo was saying as he tested what he knew with what he was shown. The ki signature of the new saiyajin was a unique blend of the two pure bloods: a hot intensity with a flowing edge that belonged to Goku; and an icy undercurrent of control and calculation that was his father. The depth of it was unfathomable. Trunks could only imagine the strength and energy the combined had.

"What do we do now?"

Piccolo gave him a steady look before trying to catch a glimpse of the fight. "We stay out of the way." Without another glance at the demi he took off toward the shore, landing on a Cliffside nearly five miles away from Gogeta.

They stood together in silence. Mirai caught snippets of the fight as the two paused their never-ending circling now and then. He frowned as he watched, muscles twitching as each blow was delivered by his pseudo-father.

* * *

Gogeta was grinning. At first it was from his confidence, but as the fight went on and Freeza's cocky smirk faded the grin only grew. They were closely matched now, but Gogeta knew he was stronger. The best part was, Freeza was starting to realize it himself.

The double saiyajin focused his mind. It would not due to be cocky this time. They had to destroy Freeza even if it took only a few minutes and did not allow him time to flex his muscles.

He started a series of moves, flowing like molten lava--utterly destructive and twice as deadly. An unbidden thought of Majin Buu lept into mind and Gogeta frowned momentarily before concentrating again.

To Gogeta's mild surprise, the moves were met by blocking. Each blow did a minimum of damage as it was met by counterblows. Freeza cackled at the irritation on the saiyajin's face.

"I watched you. I know all of your pathetic moves." Freeza spat, still countering. "You didn't think I was foolish enough to chase you both here just to die because you were too weak to do it separately?"

Gogeta's pride prickled, "You think I can't kill you?" He hissed, eyes narrowed to slits.

Freeza cackled again as the saiyajin spat at him and lunged. The icejin took advantage of his moment of weakness to uppercut him. Gogeta's head snapped back though he did not move. When he faced Freeza again a smear of blood was across his chin.

An evil smile curled on Gogeta's face, the split in his lip pulling open further until a steady trickle leaked down the cleft of his chin and down his neck. "Clever. For an extinct species." Freeza scowled and lunged. Gogeta laughed in harsh bursts as he dodged easily. "Your father is dead, by saiyajin hand. Your brother is dead, by mine." As he spoke, the dual voices faded until only Goku's rich tenor spoke the last word.

Gogeta caught the tyrant by the throat, curling his thick fingers into the soft flesh until his sharp nails began to pierce. "And _you_ are already dead."

* * *

The sun had set an hour ago, and the others had not returned from their fight with Freeza. Legolas and the twins were sitting close to each other, jammed into a seat with room for only two. The three of them were speaking in quiet quenya when Aragorn, Gimli and Gandalf entered wearily.

The dwarf dropped to a low chair in the corner, resting his chin in his palm with a grunt. He was woken--rudely in his opinion--from his sleep by Gandalf's incessant banging on his door. He was still too tired to care about what was so important as to warrant his immediate relinquish of sleep. He just got up, grumbling to himself, and followed the wizard through the halls.

The three elves looked up at them as they situated themselves about the room. Elrohir watched his foster brother squat by the fireplace, poking at the burning logs there. He allowed Aragorn some quiet contemplation with the flames before speaking up.

"_Ya anta nwalya, melin toron?"_ He whispered.

Aragorn blinked over at him, face solemn and drawn. The twin brothers frowned softly at him. Never before had they seen his mortality so plainly; the creases on his face, the wisps of grey already threading in his temples and speckling the scruff on his chin.

"I have faced Sarumon," the rider spoke softly. The sleepy faces in the room hardened. He nodded in silent answer to their unspoken question. "The end is drawing near, and it is time to face our threat."

He stood from the fireplace and sat in a high backed chair across from Gimli. "Our friends have shown me that much."

Gandalf puffed on his pipe and blew hazy smoke through the room. "I understand that the foreigners to our world seem to take their lives into their own hands at every turn, but I am uncertain that this was the best choice for us."

"If Frodo and Sam are indeed alive, they will need our help any way we can give it." Aragorn withdrew his own pipe and packed it. "Even if that means distracting Sarumon until they can finish what they had set out to do."

"I do not know whether the choice you have made is a wise one, Estel, but I will support your decision with all I have in me." Elladan gave his foster brother a radiant smile. The Gondorian king readily returned it, though it was far more weary.

"Aye. Me too." Gimli grunted from his seat, lifting his pipe to the ranger in a mock salute.

"As well as I, and all of those I have left," a stern voice spoke from the entry. The occupants of the room turned to find Eomer walking slowly into their company. He looked as though all the world had already ended. He wore no armor and no weapons, only soft clothes and untamed hair.

The Rohirrim leader sat gently on the edge of a chair next to Aragorn, hands gripping the arms tightly as soon as he lowered to his seat. The others tried not to look on him with pity, knowing it was far from what the man wanted and not what he would need in his time to heal. An uncle dead and a sister wounded.

Aragorn nodded his head in thanks, offering his pipe to the man in a ploy of sympathy. Eomer shook his head and faced the fire.

"It would be highly beneficial to our ranks if Piccolo and the saiyajins could assist us." Legolas spoke seemly out of no where.

Gandalf nodded his head slowly, pulling the pipe from his teeth. "Perhaps, but the threat of Sarumon is of our own world and they are dealing with a threat from their own. Had they not arrived at the start of this quest we would still be here facing our enemy."

Legolas nodded, trying to pretend he wasn't disappointed.

"Then we are in agreement," Aragorn stood. "In a few hours time we march for the gates of Mordor to call him out."

The others in the room stood as well, giving each other a once over with grim eyes. Who knew whom of them would be dead by this time tomorrow evening? Perhaps it would be all of them...

* * *

The continual dull grey of the sky belied the time. It appeared as dusk though it was nearly dawn. Great plumes of smoke and ash from Mordor had spread across the skies and blotted out the sunlight that tried desperately to filter through. Somewhere far to the east, Sauron was laughing.

Aragorn, as the new king Elessar, had rounded up the loose troops and gotten Eomer and the other far regions leaders together. As a whole the city had emptied entirely of warriors not a quarter hour before. The troops were restless and wary, knowing where they were headed but trying valiantly not to think about if they were ever going to make it back.

Many miles to the south of them, Piccolo and Trunks were ignoring the fact that they were exhausted and useless as they watched Gogeta and Freeza. The double-saiyajin had split apart twice so far, leaving Goku and Vegeta tumbling through the air away from each other like matching ends of a super magnet. Each time, Piccolo and Trunks had thrown themselves into Freeza's personal space to keep him preoccupied until both pure bloods could gather themselves together and recombine.

Trunks was nursing a bruised jaw and rejoined (previously dislocated) shoulder and knee. Piccolo had reassembled his broken parts on numerous occasions--couldn't accurately recall how many times he had to reset a broken nose--but was doing well considering. Goku and Vegeta, though slowly growing weary and lightly battered, were doing well.

Freeza, however, was not. Though the tyrant was still holding his own, his strength and resilience were fading. Welts and bruises of various sizes had ruined the glossy white of his skin. He had grown to his ultimate form and was knocked back out of it only recently. Gogeta was smirking at him, and he knew somewhere deep within that he was a dead Icejin.

Gogeta grasped Freeza by the throat with one large hand. He squeezed slowly, watching the blood pool in the Icejin's cheeks. Frustrated and furious--Daddy wasn't going to help him this time--Freeza swung his tail at the saiyajin's face.

Snarling, Gogeta grasped the flailing segment with his free hand and wrenched. Freeza would have screamed if he could have. Gogeta yanked again and slowly the root of the evil creature's tail began to seperate. The flesh cracked open, and seconds later, the flesh ripped free.

The fight seemed to drain entirely from Freeza's body. He hung limply by the saiyajin's fingers.

"I should have made you die slowly," Gogeta's dual voice hummed, "but I'll just have to live with you being erased from existence."

Freeza snarled, lips curling high over his teeth. He wasn't allowed a last word, not that he deserved one. Gogeta's free fist charged with an incredible amount of energy. His fingers extended and pinpoints of light gathered at his fingertips. The beams connected into a single point of energy that blasted a hole through Freeza's heart. The beam grew in diameter until only a thin layer of flesh connected the limbs of his body together, the trunk vaporized into Middle Earth's atmosphere.

Gogeta flicked the remains of Freeza's body into the air and disintegrated it into ash. With a self-satisfied smirk he turned to face Piccolo and Mirai before he began to glow. Where one saiyajin stood, two blew apart.

Goku hit the water with a giant splash and wake of foam. Vegeta impacted the sand at the sea's boarder. Piccolo and Mirai were already on their way to their aid.

Piccolo removed a sensu bean from his bag and tossed the small draw-string pouch to Mirai. The Namek retrieved Goku from the salty water, resting the saiyajin's head in the crook of his elbow. Goku grumbled at him, his face lax and ready for sleep. "Here Goku."

The saiyajin accepted the bean with little prompting and chewed it unconsciously. The bruises and cuts of his body healed, though the sleep-weary wrinkles remained. "Hey, Piccolo."

The Namek grunted, helping Goku right himself as they flew at a leisurely pace toward Mirai who was trying his best not to aid his wavering father. They landed on the soft sand a second later.

Goku quickly steady the Ouji, checking him over for wounds. Piccolo and Mirai shared a look over his shoulder. "How do you feel, Vegeta?"

The saiyajin prince snorted, shrugging away the helpful hold, "I'm fine, Kakkarot, now stop drooling over me."

The taller saiyajin grinned, "I don't think I can do that."

Piccolo repressed a gag on reflex.

Vegeta smirked, preening slightly at the compliment. "What do we do now?"

"Return to Gondor," Piccolo said quietly. "Freeza may be dead, but the others still have their enemy to finish."

Goku nodded and returned a hand to Vegeta's shoulder. He pressed his thumb into a pale crescent scar at the base of the Ouji's neck. The older saiyajin shivered and Goku felt an echo of pleasure at the back of his mind. "We still have things to sort out, too. Like where exactly did you come from?"

"Look, can you discuss this when we get back to the city?" Piccolo growled, adding in a low grunt, "and where I won't have to watch?"

Vegeta smirked up at him, "Jealous?"

Piccolo made a face of disgust though somewhere in his head he heard Kami scoff at his reaction.

Mirai grinned at them, feeling a bit nostalgic at how easily they handled each other's friendship. He was jealous, but not of his father's new found ...whatever it was. He had never had comfortable camaraderie with anyone, not entirely. It was something he was looking forward to finding.

"Let's go."

When the four of them touched down at the twisted and broken gates of Gondor, they found it eerily quiet. "Where is everyone?" Trunks asked softly, as though afraid of breaking the silence.

"Gone." Goku breathed, oblivious to the 'well duh' look he was getting from Vegeta.

It took them climbing the citadel stairs to realize that not everyone had gone. There were women and children in the buildings higher up toward the castle. They looked out at the four of them with wide, watery eyes and wavering smiles. They didn't like where this was headed.

When they reached the Halls of Healing, they found only a few healers checking through rooms that were in far fewer numbers than there had been when they had last seen.

Piccolo looked into Merry's room and came to a complete stop in the hallway. Goku paused and turned toward him. "What's the matter, Piccolo?"

"Merry's gone."

Goku scratched the back of his head, "Maybe they moved him to another room?"

"No," a hoarse voice called. Goku turned but did not recognize the scruffy character that was speaking.

Piccolo stepped toward the man, leaving the saiyajins to look after him in confusion. "Faramir. Where is everyone?"

"They've gone to Mordor." The steward's son gazed wearily between them.

"Already?" Mirai gaped, an odd panic clutching at him.

Faramir nodded. "They left nearly an hour ago. Aragorn has decided to grasp hold of his fate."

"Then we can still catch them." Vegeta spoke with authority, already preparing himself to leave.

"No," Faramir shook his shaggy head.

"What do you mean, 'No'?" Vegeta narrowed his eyes. How dare this pathetic human tell him what to do?

"Hold a moment," Faramir patted his pockets carefully, with movements of a man still very ill. He found what he was looking for in a pouch at his hip. Inside, he withdrew a folded paper, sealed with red wax. He held it toward them, willing one of them to take it. "It is from Mithrandir."

Mirai took it with a skeptical look. He broke the wax with his thumbnail and unfolded the note. The other's waited, frowning as the boy's face fell. "It says that we've fulfilled our part of the journey. He wants us to stay here and wait for their return."

"What?" Vegeta spat, snatching the note from his son's fingers. Hard onyx eyes scanned over the letter before he tightened his fist and crumpled the thick paper in his hand. "It's true. Apparently he wants us to stay."

"But why?" Mirai exploded. "We can finish this in two seconds!"

"That's not it, Trunks," Goku spoke softly. His face was set but not hard. "It makes sense. We interrupted whatever was going to happen to this planet. We've taken care of what we brought with us--"

"Freeza," Trunks murmured.

Goku nodded, "And now we have to let them do this themselves."

The youngest saiyajin sighed heavily and sat on a conveniently placed bench nearby. Piccolo pulled the letter from Vegeta's fingers and skimmed it himself. He wasn't expecting it to say anything different, but it helped ease him none the less.

"Then all we can do is wait."

* * *

Piccolo walked with Faramir to the gardens while the saiyajins sulked toward the kitchens to make themselves something to eat.

"How do you feel?"

Faramir blinked at him while aimlessly rolling a rose between his fingers. "I am still weak, but healing."

The Namek grunted in reply. They walked further in silence until Faramir began to slow and sat down on the wall with a slight tremble. The young man gave him an exhausted smile.

"Maybe you should go back to your room."

Faramir shook his head. "I've only now been allowed out, and I miss the fresh air." He looked across the gardens, eyes brightening slightly before he looked away quickly. Piccolo quirked an eye ridge and turned to see what had perked the man up.

At the exit door they had come through several minutes before, the lady Eowyn was walking carefully from the Healing Hall. Piccolo smirked, "Not to mention the sights."

The man grunted, not denying, and flushed lightly. "I have seen her in the halls, but never spoken to her. I know she is the new Rohan king's sister, the Lady Eowyn, but that is all."

"She's here because she attacked the king of the Nazgul." Piccolo nodded slightly at the incredulous look on Faramir's face.

"Surely she didn't--"

"Kill him? Yes, she did." Piccolo smirked at the look of awe that filled the man's face as he stared after the woman. She seemed oblivious to the two that spoke of her only feet away.

They sat watching Eowyn as she wandered through the flowers, occasionally touching the colorful petals with her undamaged hand. Faramir was absolutely enraptured with her. He was not obvious in his stares to any that was looking at him from a distance, but Piccolo had the urge to growl and throw him at the woman just so he wouldn't have to witness the nauseating scene any longer.

"For Kami's sake go talk to her." Piccolo rumbled.

"What?" Faramir stiffened, shooting the Namek an evil look that told the alien to watch the level of his voice.

"Lady Eowyn!" Piccolo called. The woman's head snapped up and she gave him a wavering smile. She carefully picked her way toward them through the thistles, oblivious to the fact that Faramir was currently trying to wrap his hands around Piccolo's thick neck.

"Master Namek," Eowyn nodded politely as she stopped before them. She looked highly uncomfortable.

"Good to see you awake." Piccolo told her, trying his best not to seem too threatening until he could establish a connection between the simpering Faramir and the wounded lady. "Have you met Lord Faramir?"

The lady's cheeks darkened a shade as she shook her head, "No, I have not had the pleasure."

Faramir stood, taking the woman's free hand and prostrating before her. "The pleasure is mine, my lady."

Piccolo rolled his eyes and looked toward the doorway with great interest. "Excuse me, but Goku just motioned me inside."

Faramir gave him a look somewhere between exasperation and gratitude. "Of course."

Piccolo quickly strode to the doorway, pausing once to look back at the two of them and roll his eyes. Eowyn had sat down beside Faramir and was blushing madly while the man was trying not to smile quite so largely.

* * *

Mirai was talking quietly with several women that fluttered around him. Most of them were younger, giving him approving looks and asking quirky questions about his hair. The others were older, trying to stuff him full of food and swatting the younger women away so they could be motherly.

Goku and Vegeta sat several tables away, alone. Vegeta was slightly frustrated and flushed, swatting Goku's hand away. After they had finished devouring a mountain of food, Goku's attention had returned to the crescent scar at his neck. The man had a fixation with it.

At first, Vegeta hadn't minded. Goku's thick fingers had ghosted across it, curious; but as time went the saiyajin tested Vegeta's reaction with more pressure. It seemed hard pressed to get the younger to understand what he was doing to the Ouji.

"Kakkarot," Vegeta snarled for the sixth time. Goku blinked, realizing that he was thumbing the scar again and quickly dropped his hand.

"Sorry, 'Geta," he mumbled, but a moment later his hand came up again and his fingers danced across the scar. It was true he didn't know exactly what Vegeta was feeling from all of it, but every time he touched it a spot in the back of his mind tingled and stretched like a rubber band.

Vegeta somewhat understood the curiosity. He had been taught and read various books about what they had done when he was a young pup on Vegetasei. However, what was documented was barely a memory anymore.

Finally, frustrated by Goku's constant attention, Vegeta grasped hold of Goku's neck and pressed his own thumb into the man's scar. Goku gasped, eyes unfocusing and hand dropping away.

Vegeta felt bad for a moment at being so rough, but from the stark color and muted feelings that pulsed at the back of his skull, he didn't dwell on it.

"Kami, 'Geta, was I doing that to you?" Goku breathed, eyes still detached.

"Yes," Vegeta blurted, not meaning to tell the third class. However, he was too distracted by the flush of color across Goku's face and the breathy way the saiyajin was speaking to think correctly.

Dark chocolate eyes flicked over to catch Vegeta's. "I'm not sure if I want to apologize for that or not." Vegeta snorted at the man's audacity but let a smirk slip regardless.

They sat without touching each other for a long time, allowing the odd sensations to pass. Goku sat on his hands to keep from handling the Ouji involuntarily. "You were supposed to tell me about this." He motioned toward Vegeta's neck, then quickly motioned his own and sat on his hand again.

Vegeta sighed heavily through his nose, "I'm not sure if you'll understand."

Goku looked affronted. "You have to!"

"Yes, yes," Vegeta waved him off. He thought for a moment on how to proceed. "What were you thinking when you bit me, Kakkarot?"

Goku blinked, looking slightly embarrassed. "I, uh, I'm not sure 'Geta. You were hurt by Freeza and I thought you were going to die."

"Hnn," Vegeta thought again. "And when you bit me?"

The third class scratched his head, actually trying to apply himself to the questions. "Not much. I was just really worried," A deep blush started at Goku's collar and begin to rise into his face, Vegeta found it endearing but didn't say anything. "Then my head hurt."

"Your head hurt." Vegeta deadpanned.

"Yea. Really bad too. Like someone hit me in the back of the head."

An aristocratic brow rose. "The back of your head."

Goku nodded. "Yea. Right here." He helpfully motioned with the whole of his hand and ruffled the hair at the back of his skull.

"Why did you bite me?"

A shrug. "I dunno. I just...did."

"Fine, fine." Vegeta wiped down his face with a palm. "What you started was a bonding process, Kakkarot."

"Bonding?" Goku repeated, head cocking to one side.

Vegeta ignored the question and continued. "When I woke up and returned the bite, I added to it. Bonding like this," he motioned his neck with a flick of his fingers, "connects the mind, and sometimes emotion."

"Whoa." Goku's eyes were wide. "So you can hear what I'm thinking?"

"Not necessarily. I did once, but you were distracted and angry. Strong emotions and strong thoughts."

A large grin split Goku's face. "Can you tell what I'm thinking right now?"

Vegeta sighed as Goku's face screwed up in concentration. "That you want a banana."

"Huh?"

"No, Kakkarot. I told you already. Strong emotions, strong thoughts, those get through."

"Oh." Goku looked decidedly disappointed.

Vegeta tested the link and shook his head. He could feel the third classes disappointment as though it were his own. "Here, Kakkarot. If you must try, tell me what I'm feeling."

Goku perked up and concentrated. He frowned. "I don't think it worked, Vegeta."

"Why not?"

"Well, I'm just frustrated."

Vegeta grinned. "Good. Then it works the opposite direction as well." Goku beamed.

"So, that's it? I can sometimes hear what you think?"

The Ouji averted his gaze, "Not exactly."

"Well?" Goku sat forward expectantly. Vegeta would not meet his gaze and he was beginning to get worried. "What is it?"

"Were we on Vegetasei, we would be together." Vegeta glanced over but saw Goku was not understanding. "You would not be allowed to see another person...socially. Nor would I."

"So we're, like, married or something?" Goku's eyes were wide in his face again.

Vegeta felt a slight panic well. "In a sense. But it is far deeper than a piece of paper." He saw Goku pale slightly and spoke quickly. "However, at this stage it can be reversed to a degree. There would be no bloodlust, no stronger 'attachment' than the mental connection."

Goku blinked, feeling an insane amount of jumbled emotion race through his head, half of which belonged to Vegeta. He wasn't sure what to think. He had started the whole thing as the first to bite, but did he want to end it? He was married to ChiChi, and even though he was on a different planet didn't mean he wouldn't return home soon. He loved her, but he was damned sure he loved Vegeta too. What would they do then if they didn't break it? But he didn't want to lose what he'd found with Vegeta...

"No." He said softly.

Vegeta paused in his mental rant, trying to make himself believe that he could possibly sever the tie he had never dreamed he would achieve in his lifetime. He had to take a deep breath and release it slowly before he asked Goku to repeat himself.

"No," Goku said, stronger this time. He rested a hand on Vegeta's shoulder, noting Vegeta flinch. "I don't want to-to break it. I mean, it's going to be difficult when we get home, but I don't want that."

Vegeta had yet to breath in again. Goku smiled gently at him, feeling the insecure and unsure emotion flow in from their link. He focused on his contented feeling and pushed it toward Vegeta as he kissed his cheek.

"No?" Vegeta questioned, partly confused. How could Kakkarot, not want to break it?

"Vegeta," Goku shook him slightly, "unless you want to stop it, I would like to...well...keep it."

The saiyajin prince smiled, a mere curling at the corners of his lips. "You'd have to suffer with me until you die, Kakkarot...or until I do."

Goku beamed. "Sounds fair."

Vegeta opened his mouth, trying to dissuade the younger again but found it was occupied with an eager tongue and flicking fingers at his collarbone.

They spent several minutes tracing each others scar lines and teeth, awed at the feeling of being kissed and kissing in two directions when they were interrupted.

"Maybe you guys should go back to a room?" Mirai smirked at them from his seat across the table. Vegeta scowled, ready to beat some manners into his son but Goku felt his irritation and pressed his thumb into the scar again, making him forget everything but sensation for a long minute.

"Does it bother you?" Goku asked him softly, eyes asking for the truth with open and innocent eyes.

Trunks shook his head, "No." He smiled. "I'm glad for you. It's just the ladies seem a bit shaken." He nodded toward the clique of women who had hovered over him earlier where they stood in a huddle looking at the three saiyajins. Most of them looked horrified, but two or three looked intrigued and ready to say 'awww'.

Goku beamed at Mirai's answer. He didn't want the others to feel put off by this, but he'd have to let them sort it out if they did. He was too caught up in it all to give it up because someone didn't like it.

"I think we will leave." Vegeta stood, having come back to himself. He nodded toward his son and left with Goku in tow.

Mirai watched them leave, grinning after them. Now if only he could get ahold of two certain identical elves, he just might have reason to look as contented as his father did.

* * *

The warriors of Middle Earth were antsy, but steadily growing willing to make the attack they were marching for. Some of them had seen the foreigners fight, and had told their tale to any who would listen. It was amazing the amount of morale that could be bolstered by the tale of strong men who would surely come to aid. Soon, the tale of glowing fighters had spread across the ranks until all the men were abuzz. Now each fighter had taken on thousands more orc, used one blow, and never slept at night.

Merry and Pippin were asked to talk about their friends so often that they themselves had started fabricating stories. Outlandish lies that made them giggle for long stretches after their audience had disappeared. After they had calmed, the realization of their journey would come back to them, and they would stay solemn until another herd of men came for a tale.

As for Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli, they knew that the strangers to their world were not coming to their aid. Gandalf had discussed the situation with them after the others had retired the night before to retrieve what sleep they could. They all agreed that the aliens did not need to help them with this fight, that it was a fight they had to do on their own.

Legolas had mourned quietly when they left. Piccolo had yet to return, as had the others, and though he tried to think positively he could not for long. He had agreed with Gandalf and the others, but it did not mean he wanted one last hard look at his infatuation before he ran off into what might be his early death.

The twin Peredhil had understood, though their affinity for Mirai was different than Legolas' affection for Piccolo. They too were a near millennia old, but had yet to seek a relationship as serious as Legolas believed he had found. They wanted the young saiyajin, of course, and though they did not want him for only a moment, they were hard pressed to think they would want him for all time.

Aragorn had heard them speaking quietly about it during their travel and turned to them with a withering eye. "Elladan, Elrohir, come here a moment."

Dutifully the two came at their brother's beckon, a little struck at how serious he was. "Yes, _onooro_?"

"Do not play with the young prince's affections." He said quietly.

The twins looked to each other in confusion before turning back to Aragorn. "We do not understand--"

"If you only want the boy as a plaything, then find another." Aragorn glared over at them from atop his mount. "I have heard the tale's of this boy's hardship from Goku, and the last thing he needs are two wiley elves who only seek to bed him."

Elrohir frowned harshly while Elladan gaped. "We do not seek a conquest, Estel," Elladan huffed.

Elrohir nodded in confirmation. "We do care for him, but perhaps not as he thinks."

The ranger narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. "Then you will tell him when you see him again. Do not hurt him, he has been hurt badly enough."

And with that he rode toward the front and Gandalf. The twins rode on in a funk, taken aback at their brother's audacity. But mostly feeling a little guilty. They had known some of the saiyajin's problems, but no detail of anything. Only that he had grown to fight an evil...but that was quite a lot like life on Middle Earth these years.

They looked to each other and decided that when they returned from this fight--victorious or not--they would have to speak candidly to Trunks. Better to hurt him and allow him to return home to heal, than to string him along and break his heart.

* * *

_Ya anta nwalya, melin toron_ : What gives you pain, dear brother

_Onooro_ :brother


	36. Golden Eagles and Clearing Skies

It was two days before the clouds began to darken from ash to charcoal. Vegeta and Trunks were standing on the outer rim of the Citadel, staring up into the thick and noxious clouds with differing looks of disgust and worry. Goku was feeling nauseous as the clouds rolled in without thinning. He took the time alone to lay in his shared room with Vegeta and think of happier thoughts but could never dredge any up. It was almost as though the imposing clouds were sucking all of the happy memories out of his head.

Piccolo was holed up in his room, hovering off of the floor and meditating. His brow was furrowed and muscles in his face ticked. In the darkness of his mind scenes of battle popped into focus. Frozen images of screaming faces, spattering blood, men doubled in pain. Large beads of sweat had trailed his face and were making small puddles on the floor under his levitating bulk.

The last forty-eight hours were tedious at best, but mostly angstful for all those that were left to wait at Gondor for those that they loved to return. Piccolo was one of them. He was also one of five that were becoming the largest hermits of the city. The others were heart aching women who had their hearts on their sleeves and edges on their tongues; leaving everyone they passed during the daylight hours scathed but sympathetic. Piccolo wasn't exactly lamenting his irritation and loss from the walls by yelling at others and weeping; but for the three that knew him best it was just as obvious as that.

That's why they didn't seek him out when he had holed up in his room nearly twenty hours ago not to been seen yet.

The Namek shook himself from his meditation forcefully, finally coming to complete consciousness with a yell and snap increase of power that shook the citadel walls and tossed rocks from the cliff sides. He stood, leaning out of his window to let the tepid air wash over him and dry the sweat that was positively raining from his face.

He was never this bad about waiting before. He had meditated in the worst conditions the Earth had had to offer him. In the darkest, dankest, deepest caves; in freezing, icy winds of the arctic; in dry and blistering heat of the hottest deserts he had folded himself into the lotus and sat stoic for days on end. If this irritating restlessness and worry was what he was cursed with for feeling than he was starting to regret his change of heart yet again. The first time having been when Gohan had fallen severely ill with the mumps at the age of eleven. He hadn't gotten more than an hour's meditation that week either.

Piccolo pulled himself back into his room and grasped a whole pitcher in one hand, drawing the cool water from it until it ran empty. He decided the best tactic he could take now was a means of distraction. He looked out of his window, searching for one and smirked when the answer was walking below him.

* * *

Mirai and Vegeta were walking silently across the clipped granite stones that led between the upper garden and the first major guard station. The air outside of their rooms was no better than the air inside of them. In fact, if the clouds continued to get lower and thicker, they would soon be walking through the darkest layers of fog either had ever witnessed. As it was, lanterns and torches were burning up and down the stairwells and in windows to keep the shadows at bay...and it was only just past noon.

Vegeta was growing steadily bored in the emptiness of the city. Not only was there no way for him to train efficiently, but Kakkarot had absolutely refused to allow him to destroy pieces of the great walls or the mountainside to ease his boredom. The saiyajin third-class was turning out to be a bigger cramp in his side than normal.

A small flicker of humor tickled over the back of his mind where Goku had understood his grumpiness. Vegeta scowled and huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't register the confused look his son had shot him.

As they neared the entrance to Piccolo's quarters, Mirai frowned thoughtfully at the closed oak door. He was getting worried for the Namek, but he knew better than to meddle. He hadn't known Piccolo well at all when he had met him before, and the Namek had been long since dead on his home world.

To his surprise, the door was yanked open just as they passed.

Vegeta paused to look over his shoulder, an evil smirk on his face as he eyed the Namek. "Finished weeping into your pillows?"

Piccolo's face pinched into a severe frown and he pulled his door shut a bit harder than he had intended, cracking the mortar and bricks of the frame and pulling the latch clean out of the wooden encasement. He paused to look at the hunk of metal in his hand before dropping it to the stones.

The Namek didn't answer, only fell into step slightly behind them as usual and snorted. "What did you do to make Goku kick you out?"

The saiyajin prince bristled. Mirai tried not to look intrigued, wondering why Vegeta had been so eager to join him on a walk earlier.

"He did not 'kick me out'," Vegeta hissed. They rounded a small bend in the corridor. "He was simply being disagreeable."

Piccolo grinned at the back of Vegeta's spiky-haired head. That added up to many number of scenarios, all of which culminated with Goku kicking the Ouji from their room for some peace. Goku was never disagreable.

It was almost too much for Vegeta's pride to stop outside of the locked door and knock to wait for Goku's answer; and almost too much for Piccolo to keep from laughing. To save himself a beating, the Namek continued past with Mirai in tow as he let out a rumble of laughter.

They exited the hall into the open air, standing on one of the many landings of the thousands of stairs that wound up Gondor's mountainous city. Piccolo curled his nose in distaste at the heavy feel of oil and ash that clung to him.

"How are you doing, Piccolo?"

The Namek looked down at his companion, resisting a smirk as Mirai figeted. "Fine."

"Uh...good," Trunks pushed his hair from his face.

"Spar?"

Mirai blinked, unsure if he had heard the simple question or not, but grinned as he saw the patient look on Piccolo's face as he waited for an answer. The demi-saiyajin smiled and nodded. "Let's go."

They both blasted into the air above the city, bursting through the heavy cloud cover and into the piercing sunlight. They both stopped to squint and adjust. It was truly amazing how heavy and ominous those clouds were once you stood on the other side of them.

After a short moment of adjustment they powered up and grinned. It felt good to be doing something well-known. An easy routine that took concentration and skill. It didn't leave either of them the chance to think about those things that would worry them.

They had been grappling for nearly an hour when a shrill screech spun them around to face the unknown. They stood panting, suspended in the air with their ears trained. Swirling through the sunlight on great spans of wings came three eagles.

The beautiful birds themselves were each the size of Gohan's pet Icarus. Their plumage glinted in the sunbeams, making them ethereal. Their hooked beaks opened and a great trill of noise curled through the air.

The lead eagle turned a large golden eye toward them, tittering softly as though speaking, as it flew quickly to the East with its brethren in tow.

Piccolo and Trunks watched them until they were small specks in the horizon.

"Wow," Mirai breathed.

Piccolo grunted. Wow, indeed. The question that plagued his mind was, what were the birds doing? They weren't evil, that he could feel and the fact that the eagles swept past without attacking helped cement the fact. He might have been able to ignore them if they had flown in any other direction, but they were headed in the direction of Mordor.

As he thought and Mirai remained in awe, the earth below them began to shiver. A second later, the ground shook with a mighty tremble that set rocks and boulders rolling from the mountainside. Smoke spewed into the sky far in the East and Piccolo could swear he heard someone scream far, far in the distance.

Much to their surprise, the clouds that lay thick below them began to thin. Within a matter of moments, the heavy smog began to clear until they could see a haze of Gondor; yet another tick of time and there was no clouds left to be seen.

Goku was soon beside them, though neither noticed how or when. "What's going on guys?"

Trunks blinked at him, slightly surprised to see him. A crooked grin lit on his face. He faced back toward the East and spoke with assurance, "It's over."

The third class cocked his head to the side, eyes round. "How do you know?"

"Just look around you, Goku! Of course it is." The demi smiled, blue eyes vibrant.

Piccolo pondered that a moment. "They'll be here in a day, maybe two depending on how many are injured."

Goku's game face had fallen on. "Then we should do what we can here."

Piccolo smirked at him. "I'll talk to Faramir and the remaining Healers to get the rooms ready."

He didn't wait for much else, headed directly for the citadel walls. He found Lord Faramir with the Lady Eowyn, both of them leaning against the outer wall and staring in awe into the brilliant blue sky.

"Faramir!" Piccolo called as he landed, walking quickly toward him. All the more easier with his long stride.

The youngest steward startled and spun away from Eowyn, his back tight in defense. He breathed lightly and relaxed as he recognized Piccolo. "Is there a reason you've decided to test the strength of my heart?"

Piccolo didn't comment on the man's joke, he instead looked between the two of them with a stern face and spoke softly. "There's been a change in the tide. Those that have gone off to war are coming back and a lot of them will be hurt. I need your help to get everyone that's stayed behind to set up rooms."

Faramir nodded, acknowledging the responsibility. The Lady Eowyn stepped forward, "They're returning?"

"We believe they are."

She nodded, "We'll do what we can." She turned to Faramir and took his hand in hers, pulling him along behind her as she started for the entrance into the Halls of Healing.

Piccolo stared out into the horizon for a long five minutes. Goku was standing patiently beside him when he finally turned. The saiyajin gave him a lopsided grin, "Ready?"

"Ready for what?" Piccolo frowned.

"To help them!" Goku smiled again, stepping up onto the ledge of the building. "We might be able to bring a few of the worse people back faster."

"Vegeta and Trunks?"

"They're coming too." Goku motioned behind him and Piccolo saw father and son waiting.

He nodded and stepped off into the air. The four of them quickly left Gondor behind them in a tizzy of cleaning women and medics grinding herbs and boiling water.

The acrid smell of the air was still lingering in the air closer to Mordor. The clouds seemed to still center over the mountain like a volcano in reverse. Instead of spewing the ash, it was sucking it slowly back in.

It had taken twenty minutes of hard flight before they saw the dust of the traveling troops in the distance. They were moving steadily, but not quickly. A sure sign of their casualties.

* * *

Of all the men and the elves with sharp eyes, it was two exhausted and bloodied Hobbits that saw them first.

Pippin sat before Eomer, limbs deadened from battle and head practically bobbing around on his neck as he fought off sleep. Beside him, sitting in front of Aragorn, rode Merry. Pippin tried to turn his head and start a conversation with his cousin, anything to stave off the sleep, but didn't even have the energy to do that.

The sunshine on his face was welcome. It added to his daze and his body's desire for sleep, but his heart and mind were not in it. He was afraid to close his eyes, fearing that if he did the only thing he would find would be the horror's of war played over and over behind his lids.

So he forced his eyes to stay open and he stared around him wherever his head would point them. First at the back of the horse's head, then to Aragorn and Merry, then the skies and all points in between. His head had just fallen back onto Eomer's chest and his eyes were harder to hold open than before, but four dots in the sky made him blink them open again.

He steadied his head and stared up at them. As a slow smile split his face he turned to Merry and poked him with the point of his sword hilt. "Merry!"

The Hobbit grunted, just dozing and turned bleary eyes to his cousin. "What is it Pip, I was nearly asleep you know?"

"There Merry, look!" Pippin pointed up into the sky.

Both Hobbits stared after the points and smiled happily, chittering quickly back and forth. They had only just gotten Aragorn and Eomer's attention when the aliens came into focus.

"What are you two so happy about?" Aragorn smiled gently down at them.

"They're coming, Strider, look!" Pippin pointed happily again.

The Ranger looked up, a grim smile on his face as he watched the four of them slow to land several yards in front of them.

The lead horses slowed, intending to stop, but the Ningen Aliens stepped from the way and moved along side. Vegeta and Trunks took to the air again, keeping pace with the troops but flying several feet off of the ground. Goku and Piccolo ran beside Eomer and Aragorn.

"We came to help," Goku beamed.

"The war is already over," Aragorn looked slightly confused.

Goku laughed, catching the attention of several riders behind and the word of them spread slowly toward the back. "Not with the fight. We figured there would be people that needed help, we thought we could lift them into the city."

Aragorn nodded, "I appreciate the offer, but I most of the men have been bound and secured." His face hardened, "We've lost many."

Goku frowned in sympathy. "I figured as much." Then he added as an afterthought, "I'm sorry."

Aragorn waved at him dismissively but allowed a small grateful smile at the saiyajin's sentiment. "It was expected, no matter how much I wish it weren't true."

Silence fell around them but for the steady clomping of feet and the chittering of men at the back of them. News had spread to the middle of the entourage where Legolas, Gimli and the twins rode amongst the men that led the wounded. Elrond's sons were magnificent healers--especially compared to clumsy warriors-- thanks to their father's skill and were often called upon by the few medics that had traveled with them.

When the twins caught sight of Trunks flying above them, they both grinned and pointed happily. Legolas recognized both saiyajins and scoured the air for Piccolo, feeling slightly panicked that he did not catch sight of him--thinking the worst had happened in the fight against Freeza. He relaxed greatly, much to Gimli's vocal amusement, when talk of strangers running among the horses at the front finally made it to them.

Gimli could tell that the elf wanted to dart off, just to see with his own eyes--and possibly feel with his own lips, he admitted to himself with a chortle--and he prodded the regal elf with his stubby fingers.

"Well, what are you waiting for lad?"

Legolas had the gall to look confused, "What do you mean, Gimli?"

The dwarf snorted and rolled his eyes, "Go to the front and see your Namek," he grinned at the slight smile that tilted the elf's lips.

"Yes, of course," chimed Elladan, "He's bound to be up there."

"Oh, yes, yes, I think I see him," grinned Elrohir, pointed aimlessly into the crowd.

Much to their amusement, Legolas peered around the bodies in front of him with a careful eye. The elf prince frowned a moment later and scowled at them, knowing he had been made a fool.

"I hope you are proud of yourselves," Legolas bemoaned, "nearly crippling an old elf's heart."

The others laughed heavily, the tinkling sound of the elves and the pulsing bass of the dwarf's creating an odd symphony to the ears of the men around them.

The laughter stopped as a great shadow flew across them. The large eagles were flying back toward the west, trilling loudly as they soared past. The elves glanced about the birds' feet and were hard pressed to tell if they were more relieved or worried to see the limp bundles the bird's carried in their claws.

Trunks and Piccolo both recognized the great tawny birds, and their interest in them piqued as the birds blew past them headed toward Gondor's great bulk far in the horizon. The Namek shot Goku a look before he lept into the clouds and paused midair until Vegeta and Trunks trailed past him.

He didn't notice the happily probing eyes below him.

"There they go again," Mirai muttered, curiosity creasing his face.

"Did you see what they were carrying?" Piccolo questioned in his monotone voice.

Trunks shook his head and Piccolo grunted. "Do you still have the pouch of beans?"

Mirai patted his pockets, knowing he had put them somewhere. His face soured as a more thorough search ensued that turned up nothing but pocket lint. "I don't have them on me."

Piccolo frowned and blasted forward ahead of them. Mirai was partly startled but called after him anyway, "Why? What's wrong? Piccolo? Piccolo!" But the Namek was ignoring him, too busy trying to catch the amazingly agile fowl.

Below, among the hundreds of men that ambled slowly toward their destination, two identical elves turned inquisitive eyes to their blonde companion. The fair elf shrugged his shoulders elegantly and tried not to look put off. "He's gone to help Frodo."

* * *

Bulma was tired and filthy. Not to mention, highly irritated. She vowed never to even look at a horse again, much less try to ride one by herself. The fact that the present company she kept were amazingly agile on the hoofed beasts didn't save her dignity any.

"Exactly what are we doing again?" She asked irritably to the dark-shrouded figure that rode on a sable horse in front of her.

Lord Elrond turned his head slightly, a slight smile curling the edges of his lips. "We are riding to Gondor."

Bulma huffed, then let out an 'eek' as the horse below her-- that found her just as irritating as she found it-- tried to sidestep into a nearby branch. She managed to duck below it and mutter several choice phrases before glaring at the back of Elrond's head again. "And why are we going to Gondor?"

This time, the elf didn't bother to look at her to answer. "Because the war is over."

"Then why are we--"

"Lady Bulma, if you insist on asking the same questions repeatedly throughout this whole trip, I promise you, you will do so bound and gagged." Elrond spoke sternly, still facing away from her to keep the amused smirk on his face from being seen.

The senschal, Glorfindel, rode in front of the whole entourage to keep a watchful eye out for remaining orc troops and other nasties but was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his mind clear of intrusive thoughts that stole away his concentration.

When Bulma opened her mouth to speak again, the large, blonde elf spun on his steed and quickly produced a length of rope while urging the horse toward her. The woman let out a surprised squeak and clamped her mouth shut. Glorfindel narrowed his eyes and set his impressive jaw, Bulma quickly looked away.

Satisfied, he turned and began to search the trees again in the new silence.

"_Llya__ noa an nut i inya_?" Elrond spoke quietly a moment later with a hint of laughter in his voice.

The tall blonde elf didn't bother to turn, but continued his delicate search as he spoke, "_An__ Quent kaano lle_."

A battle of wills not to laugh at the serious timber of Glorfindel's voice nearly robed Elrond the ability to ride sitting up straight. Bulma was scowling at the both of them and he knew it, but she had yet to speak to them. It made holding in his mirth all the worse.

_Llya__ noa an nut i inya _You think to tie the woman

_An Quent kaano lle_ At your word commander


	37. A Hobbit wakes

Gandalf was striding through the Halls of Healing toward the far gardens when Piccolo landed with a blast in the softened dirt that made a circle of dust five feet in diameter. The wizard held an arm up to cover his face from the assault and spared a quick nod to the alien before he began stalking around the carefully lain rows.

"Where are they?"

Gandalf glanced up from his search among the foliage to see Piccolo nearly twitching in impatience. He thought to toy with him but thought better of it. "They are in the Halls of Healing. I don't have much time to explain."

Piccolo nodded and strode away toward the entrance doors without looking back. The aged wizard shook his shaggy head as he continued to search. That was one thing he had grown to like about the giant creature--he didn't have the pension to ask questions when they were not prudent.

He found what he was looking for growing beneath several large heads of purple blossoms. He quickly hooked his fingers around the thick stem and pulled the plant free from the soil by the roots.

He shook the dirt free from the plant as he quickly walked back toward the entranceway, looking skeptically at the small plant and hoping it would do. He passed a medic in the hallway and haulted the man with his staff. "Take this, dry it over an open flame." The man dutifully took them and began to scurry away when Gandalf called to him in warning. "Do it quickly, and do not burn it!"

The wizard began his steady tapping down the hall toward the far chambers and heard a slight ruckus from within.

"Please, you need to leave!"

There had been no response coming forth but a low growl of annoyance. The wizard quickly turned into the room to see two healers and an aid trying to push and prod the Namek out of Samwise Gamgee's and Frodo Baggins' current room.

One of the medics was feeling quite important--or perhaps foolish--and stepped directly into Piccolo's space and began to poke the alien in the chest with his finger. "You have no business here! Get out before we have you thrown into the dungeons!"

Gandalf snorted in the doorway and pushed past all of them. When the healers turned to him for help he pointed at the two Hobbits that lay dying on opposite beds. "Stop bickering you fools!"

The aid quickly went to Gandalf to assist him, while one of the healers hesitatingly walked off toward Sam. The man that was prodding Piccolo continued to glare up at him until Piccolo tensed as Frodo groaned loudly in his bed.

He grabbed the short man by the front of his robes and hauled him off of the ground so that he was eye level. "If he dies because you didn't help him, I'll rip the limbs off of your body," he hissed.

The man's face paled and when Piccolo set him back onto his feet the man nearly puddled to the ground. He pulled himself together to glare up at Piccolo, but walked quickly toward Frodo's bedside.

The Namek stood in the corner of the room and watched the bustle of people as they stripped the filthy clothes off of the Hobbits and began to clean their wounds. He frowned as they fussed over Frodo. The young Hobbit looked as though he had dropped twenty pounds, his skin was stretched tightly across his ribs and shoulders. What worried him --and consequently the healers as well-- was the missing finger on the boy's left hand. It was quite apparent that he had lost a great amount of blood.

The boy moaned pitifully though he remained mostly unconscious. A knot twisted in Piccolo's stomach at the whimpering and he couldn't handle standing idly by. With a sharp turn on his heel, he stalked from the room and headed toward Trunks' chambers.

He was happy to notice that the others that remained were busy making preparations for the warriors' return home. He passed by his room, snorting at the busted jam, and finally into the hallway that led to the three saiyajin's rooms.

Piccolo counted in his head, his long stride taking him past rooms swiftly. He shouldered open Trunks' door and stood still in the entry just gazing around the space, trying to think of where the small bag of beans would be.

A compact stand with two drawers sat beside the bed, a heavy bureau underneath the windows, and whatever drawers would be in the connected room to the far right. Piccolo tried the small stand first, yanking the top drawer open with a flourish that pulled the shelf completely free and dumped the contents onto the floor. He dropped to his knees and pawed through the mess with his hands.

The small brown pouch peeked out at him from underneath a badly folded t-shirt. He grinned as he plucked it from the mound, but frowned as he turned it upside down in his hand. It was empty.

He was sure there had been more beans in the bag; he would have bet his left antenna on it. He crumpled the small sack in his fist and stood from the mess, walking back toward the Halls of Healing.

Gandalf was spouting orders to the medics as he approached. Piccolo stopped in the entry, leaning heavily against the jam and watching the slight rise and fall of the two Hobbits' chests. They both looked frail and sick.

Gandalf pinched the bridge of his nose and turned tiredly away from the beds for a moment. The medics were working ceaselessly, and where was his atheleas!

He noticed Piccolo then, standing dejectedly in the doorway. He had taken note when the alien had gone, but didn't spare him another thought until he had returned just as suddenly. Gandalf caught his gaze and Piccolo nodded sharply to him before spinning out of the doorway. Something fluttered from his hand as his fists opened.

Gandalf walked to the entry, looking out and watching Piccolo disappear into the gardens. He bent and retrieved the pouch that had fallen from Piccolo's fingers. He frowned at it, poking a crooked finger into it, then pocketed it. Whatever the Namek had hoped to find hadn't been there, but perhaps he could find something to put into it for him.

Piccolo had returned to the gardens to brood. It was something he was good at, and it at least would pass the time. He focused on Vegeta and Goku's ki, feeling them come closer by miniscule amounts. The great procession of men was moving very slowly. He would have thought that men returning home from war would rather run their horses ragged to get back. There were women and children here waiting from them to step back in through the gates.

An odd thought crossed Piccolo's mind and he snorted. He hadn't even looked for Legolas in the crowds of warriors. His attention had been caught by the great golden eagles and away he went without a care

in the world. Well, that wasn't really true. He was actually too burdened to pay better attention.

He silently hoped that Legolas wouldn't begrudge him for it. Somehow, he doubted he would.

"May I join you?"

Piccolo cracked open one eye to see Faramir already sitting down on a narrow bench beside him. "Would it have made a difference if I said no?"

The young man grinned, "No."

Piccolo snorted and let him be. Besides, if all else failed to distract him, he could pick on the young lord.

---

It had taken a whole day after the arrival of Goku, and Vegeta and son, before the troops could be seen from the outer battlements. A great cry rose up from the wall as first one person and then another saw the cloud of dust in the distance. Last minute preparations were started and extra beds were quickly made in the infirmary.

Goku and Vegeta landed ahead of the crew, faces grim with business as they relayed the number of wounded to the healers and conveyed the orders from their new king. The dead and dying would be arriving within the next hour.

Goku was exhausted. He wasn't sure why it was exactly but it didn't matter about the why's at the moment, only that he wanted to collapse onto a bed and sleep for the next several hours. Vegeta didn't look nearly as haggard as he did, but he could still see weary lines around the prince's mouth as he frowned at the overly-white walls.

"Hey," a familiar gravely voice called softly to them from the end of the hall. Piccolo's angular face was turned to them but hidden in the shadow of a half shut door.

"Well, hey, Piccolo," Goku chirruped, walking toward him. He carefully checked the level of his voice before he spoke again. Piccolo had given him a look so startlingly close to ChiChi's reprimanding look that he almost apologized to his wife out loud. The large saiyajin stopped beside his friend and peeked carefully inside the sterile room. He nodded in acknowledgment as he whispered, "How are they?"

"Stable," Piccolo sighed softly, "they haven't gotten any better, but they haven't gotten any worse. I'm not sure if we should be thankful or not."

Vegeta irritably pushed between the two of them to look, frustrated that the two tallest beings he knew were blocking his view. The two Hobbits lay on the white linen, their skin so pale it blended with the sheets. A wave of melancholy washed over him, though it did not show on his face.

A warm hand settled on the back of his neck and he leaned imperceptibly into Goku's touch. He snorted softly. The damned third class was learning to use his newfound abilities quite well.

"I'm tired, Kakkarot," He mumbled.

"Me too," Goku admitted, tightening his fingers a fraction into an affectionate squeeze.

"You two go to bed. Your rooms haven't been changed. I'll get you up if something happens." Piccolo assured them, his eyes never leaving the room in front of him.

"Sure, Piccolo," Goku smiled, "thanks."

The two saiyajins made their way from the Halls of Healing and found their room in a slight daze. Goku stumbled into the room and fell across the bed with a large yawn. "Why are we so tired, 'Geta?"

Vegeta ignored the inelegant way his mate had plopped across the mattress and wearily pulled off his boots while sitting on the edge. "I think we've been pushing the boundaries of the bond too quickly."

Startled into wakefulness, Goku sat up. "What do you mean?"

"Relax, Kakkarot. All I meant was that our testing what we can and cannot do before the bond is cemented is taking its toll. Granted, you've made progress, but all forms of training require that you have to recuperate." Vegeta sighed in satisfaction as his remaining boot finally relinquished its hold and fell to the floor.

"Oh," Goku yawned again, falling back onto the bed and grinning to himself as Vegeta grumbled in annoyance.

Finally, Vegeta lay beside him and closed his eyes in exhaustion. A set of smooth warm lips covered his and though he was loathe to push Kakkarot away, he was too tired to be of much fun if the damned third class felt like playing. Vegeta nearly snorted at the thought, how old was he getting to prefer a nap over a quick fling?

The lips retreated and a heavy arm slung across his stomach, pulling him into the middle of the bed.

"Kakkarot," he started without opening his eyes, "I will not do anything in this bed at this moment other than sleep."

A light laugh came from the chest pressed against his ear. "I don't want to do anything else either, Vegeta." The arm tightened and within his mind Vegeta felt Kakkarot's thoughts brush against him, I just want you close.

A nicely contented feeling spread across Vegeta's chest and he mindlessly turned in Goku's hold until he was tucked neatly under his chin. "Go to sleep, Kakkarot," he mumbled into the broad chest in front of him. He needn't have bothered since a soft snore soon followed. He smirked and curled a fist into the fabric of Goku's tunic before he too fell asleep.

---

Trunks and the twin sons of Elrond climbed the stairs together. The two elves were leading the wounded soldiers up the steps, those that were too hurt to walk themselves were on the ground where ready medics had already prepared great vats of boiling water and healing herbs.

"Neither of you are hurt right?" Mirai asked, glancing to either side of him.

The twins looked at each other over his head, "No," they spoke in unison.

Mirai frowned in confusion, "Right..."

Since they had met at the gates, both twins had spoken barely a whole sentence to the demi-saiyajin. Trunks was getting a little irritated with the whole ordeal. Normally the two of them would scheme and chirp to each other in Elfish nonstop. And not to sound egotistical, but they were relatively alone climbing the citadel stairs and neither one had bothered to try and accost him yet.

"You're sure that you're okay?" He tried again.

The twins shook their heads and smiled weakly. "We are not injured, Mirai," Elladan reassured him.

"Besides a few bruises and scrapes, we are whole and entire," Elrohir affirmed.

"Hn." Mirai growled softly to himself and sped up. They were keeping something from him. His father's temper was starting to get the better of him, he could feel it churning in his stomach and clench his fists. If they didn't want to tell him what was wrong, fine. If they wanted to pretend that everything was fantastic, so be it. But they could play make-believe without him. He was far too old and far too jaded to play with them.

The twins paused in surprise when the demi-saiyajin let out a short grunt and jetted off of the stairs and flew to the top of the city without them.

Elladan glanced at his brother and sighed softly, "This is not going so well."

Elrohir shook his head and winced as Trunks landed with a bang at the top of the city. "No, I'm afraid it is not."

---

Mirai found Piccolo in the Halls of Healing. He had aimlessly followed the other's ki while he was fuming. He sidled up behind the Namek and scowled into the room. His anger fizzled away steadily as he registered the Hobbits.

"How are they," he asked softly.

Piccolo shook his head, "Not well."

"I'm sorry." Mirai sighed and leaned into the doorjamb. "Have you been standing here all day?"

"Yes."

The demi was surprised. It was hard to imagine the large Namek hovering like a mother hen.

Medics moved past them without bothering to make them move. Trunks grinned to himself, he knew that Piccolo must be a permanent fixture in the Hobbits' room for the others to step around him so easily. It was rather sad as well, how badly must Frodo and Sam be doing for Piccolo to stand here for hours on end?

"Have you seen Legolas?" Piccolo questioned.

Trunks thought for a moment then shook his head, "Not recently. I saw him with the twins when we first entered the city, but I think he stayed with the wounded to help Aragorn."

Piccolo nodded and turned in the doorway. "Would you stay here? I need some fresh air."

Trunks grinned. "Sure."

He watched Piccolo walk to the end of the hall before leaping down the jagged face of the city. He was bound for the main entrance and Legolas, Mirai knew. Gandalf found Trunks leaning in Piccolo's spot five minutes later.

"Good afternoon, young Saiyajin."

"Gandalf," Mirai nodded.

"Where is our Namek?" Gandalf smiled softly, "He has been a statue in that spot for the past two days."

Mirai nodded, "This is where I found him. He said he needed some fresh air, you just missed him."

"That is quite all right, he needed to leave this place. It is only serving to depress him."

Gandalf entered the room and bent over Frodo's prone form. He motioned Trunks in. "You can sit here if you'd like. Piccolo seems to have a pension for the theatrical and refused to sit."

Trunks sat gingerly on the edge of the seat and looked at the pale faces. "Have they gotten any better?"

"Some," Gandalf sighed deeply, his voice lined in regret. "But there is nothing more I can do for them."

The wizard stood and shook out his robes. He smiled sadly down at the Hobbits and brushed stray hair from both of their foreheads before he walked quietly to the door. "You are welcome to stay and sit with them. They have not woken yet, perhaps you will be lucky enough to see their eyes again."

The pristine white robes fluttered at his ankles and with a whisper of cloth, the man was gone. Mirai stood from the chair and walked around the beds, gently touching first one Hobbit's cheek and then the other. They were so much more innocent in their deep sleep. It was wrong, evil even, that they had to suffer.

"If they have to die," Mirai whispered to a God he didn't think existed, "then take them now. Don't make them suffer."

Frodo whimpered softly in his sleep and Trunks lay the back of his hand across the Hobbit's fevered forehead. With a slight grunt, the demi gathered his ki into his palm and pressed it gently to the boy's temple. It was absorbed slowly, like the sucking of molasses through a straw. The small bulb was gone a minute later and Mirai felt the boy's forehead again. The temperature was still high, but a rosy color had returned to Frodo's cheeks.

"Have better dreams, Frodo Baggins," Trunks muttered, brushing his fingers through the unruly curls on the boy's head.

He copied the trick with Samwise and smiled as the Hobbit's eyelids fluttered slightly. They did not open, but Mirai was happy none-the-less. He returned to his chair and watched them both, his troubles seeming small and petty. He would tell Piccolo of his success when the Namek returned.

---

Legolas was tired and dirtied in blood. Aragorn was nearly dead on his feet, but some force kept the ranger plodding through the injured warriors. An endless line of half-dead soldiers were demanding attention from any medic who would listen.

A never ending supply of atheleas leaves were coming from somewhere and Strider's hands were covered in the ashy mud from the dried leaves. He smeared it across cheeks, bound shallow wounds with it, and crumpled it over steaming water. Perhaps it was the earthy smell of the atheleas tea in the air that kept them with enough energy to help all those that needed it.

"Gimli, hand me that strip of binding," Legolas called, pressing a folded cloth tightly over a wounded soldier's leg. The dwarf hurried over with the strip of cloth and yawned wide.

"I don't know how ye both keep up," the dwarf grudgingly admitted. "I could lay here in the street and hear naught for a fortnight."

Legolas gave him a weary smile and tied off the bandage before moving off to the next body in line. "It has to be done, Gimli. No one else is fit enough to help. Everyone who is is already here."

The faces of men blended together until there was only the same scruffy, grim-lined face over and over. Each wound was cleaned to the best of the ability and the supply of clean water would allow. A long time later, Legolas stood and clutched at his aching lower back. His lithe elfish body was screaming for the sleep he had not gotten for days.

"Ye need to rest," Gimli called over to him, helping a medic hold down a soldier while they removed a large chunk of splintered staff from his thigh.

Legolas waved him off and turned the next soldier. A simple splint and sling on a fractured arm and he was straightening again with a groan. Thick fingers ground into the muscles of his lower back and Legolas was too relieved to jump at the intrusion into his personal space. He leaned inelegantly onto a broken piece of wall and let the strong hands knead at his aching muscles.

"Gimli, if all dwarves have half your ability, your kind should stop mining and become healers," Legolas grunted appreciatively.

The dwarf's smirking face popped up beside him, "Thank ye, lad, I've been doing my best."

Legolas paused in his euphoria to notice that Gimli was leaning against the wall next to him, his hands busy stuffing his pipe. The elf stiffened in realization and was about to spin around but a heavy body pinned him to the wall. A low, gruff voice spoke to him in admonishing tones, "Now you've undone my hard work."

The elf let out a breathy laugh and molded back onto the cracked wall and let Piccolo work the kinks out of his back. Thick fingers worked up his back and across his shoulders, ending by tangling in his hair and stretching his neck.

"Better?" Piccolo stepped away and leaned against the wall next to the elf.

Legolas nodded his head, feeling even more the need to lie down to sleep. He smiled tiredly up at the Namek and thought the alien had never looked so good. "I believe I could use a long night's sleep."

Piccolo frowned and looked the Mirkwood Prince over. "When is the last time you slept?"

He was going to lie, but as soon as he opened his mouth, Piccolo gave him a serious stare and Legolas relented. "Four, nearly five days."

"Then you should go to your rooms and rest," a hoarse voice spoke.

Aragorn walked slowly toward them, looking three days dead. He stopped in front of them with a pained look that spoke volumes of his weariness. "Go on, Legolas, you should not chance your own good health by pressing your luck."

Legolas frowned at the Gondorian king, "Only when you retire, Estel. You need the sleep more than I."

The man smiled, "I am on my way up to the Halls of Healing, there is nothing left here for me tonight, but there are still two that need my attention there."

"Then I will come with you," Legolas said stubbornly.

"You're going to see Frodo and Sam?" Piccolo stepped in, ears perking up.

"Yes, I have not seen them and Gandalf tells me they are not doing well."

Legolas glanced up at Piccolo to see if it were true and frowned when the Namek nodded. "Do you want a lift to the top?"

Aragorn looked taken aback, "What do you mean?"

"You're exhausted and there are thousands of stairs. Come on," He held out an arm and took tight hold of the Gondorian king by looping it under his shoulders. Aragorn looked uncomfortable but Piccolo ignored it. He looked over to the others, Legolas was suppressing a grin and Gimli would not meet his eyes. "I'll be right back," he promised before leaping into the air with a clinging king grabbing at his tunic.

The fly was short, but by the time Piccolo landed, Aragorn looked slightly green. "Sorry," he mumbled as he set the man on his feet. "I'll return here with the others, I think you'd better hurry."

Aragorn nodded once and shook himself to get moving. Piccolo watched him enter the hall before he returned to the base of the city.

Legolas and Gimli had been joined by Merry and Pippin in the short time Piccolo was away. The Hobbits blinked sleepily and grinned lazily at him. "Hullo, Piccolo."

Piccolo smirked, "Hello, Pippin."

"How did Aragorn fair?" Legolas asked in curiosity.

"Well, enough," Piccolo admitted.

"What did Strider do?" Merry asked, looking between the others in confusion.

"The Namek flew him to the Citadel," Gimli explained, a wide grin on his face as he pictured Aragorn's shocked face again.

The two Hobbit's eyes widened into saucers. "He got to fly? We haven't!" Pippin cried indignantly. "You even said I could!"

Piccolo refrained from rolling his eyes and instead scooted to his level. "And if I take you now?"

Pippin squealed, already clutching the Namek by the neck by the time Merry stood up. Merry was far more polite about it than his cousin and asked for permission to clamber up before he attached himself.

Piccolo stood with the two Hobbits swaying and laughing uproariously. The Namek scowled and looked at each of them the best he could, "Listen to me." Immediately, the childish giggles stopped. "I'm taking you to see Frodo and Sam but you have to be quiet. They aren't doing so well, understand?"

"Yes," they nodded sagely, looking alarmed.

"If the medics or Aragorn ask you to leave, you leave, is that understood?"

"Yes," they said again more sternly. Piccolo nodded and looked apologetically at Legolas before he took off again.

True to their word, neither Hobbit let out so much as a giggle on the way up. Piccolo set them both on the ground but didn't let them go immediately. "I'm glad you are both okay," he told them, smiling a little as they both blushed lightly. He released them and watched as they walked calmly into the hall. They had both grown a great deal since the beginning of the adventure.

The final trip up brought Legolas and Gimli, though when Piccolo landed this time he was loathe to let Legolas go. The elf seemed to notice and clung just a second longer before he let go. Piccolo growled softly, trailing after him into the hall. He had seen the Hobbits longer than any of the others so he remained in the corridor while the others took turns checking on the young heroes.

Mirai walked quietly out into the hall as Merry and Pippin went in. He reclined against the wall next to Piccolo and rubbed tiredly at his face. "Aragorn's treating them right now, hopefully they will be better in a few days."

Piccolo nodded.

"I fed them some of my energy earlier," Trunks admitted, not quite able to look Piccolo in the face. "They took it slowly, but they seem a little better because of it."

When he hazarded to look, Piccolo was staring at him with intensity. "Thank you," he said softly in his gravely voice. Mirai felt his face heat lightly and he looked away.

"Sure, no problem."

Legolas looked between the two of them, his crystalline eyes dancing. "Where are the sons of Elrond, young prince?"

Mirai's shoulders stiffened and the light color that had touched his cheeks fled it just as quickly as it had come. "I don't know."

Piccolo and Legolas shared a confused look. "I thought you walked up with them..." Legolas said softly, hoping he wasn't setting fire to dry reeds.

"I did," Trunks spat. He fisted his hair and turned his head sharply toward the elf with a heated glare, "Can we drop it?"

"Of course, forgive me." Legolas soothed.

As though fate were tempting the young saiyajin's mettle, the twin elves took that moment to make an appearance. Trunks stiffened but still nodded curtly when the two of them spoke their hello's.

"May we speak to you, Mirai?" Elrohir asked, looking imploringly to the exit that led to the gardens.

Trunks nodded stiffly and stalked to the exit, leaving the twins looking guilty as they followed behind.

"What's that about?" Gimli wondered aloud, standing in the entry to Frodo and Sam's room.

Piccolo lifted one shoulder. The demi was irritated when he first saw him little under an hour ago. If Trunks wanted to tell him about it, fine, if not he wasn't about to pry for answers.

The three of them stood awkwardly in the hall for a long minute before Merry and Pippin came out. Pippin walked across the hall in a daze and slumped against Piccolo's hip for support. Merry sat on the floor beside his cousin.

Legolas quietly excused himself and went into the room, leaving Piccolo to tend to the alarmed Hobbits.

"They look so small in those beds," Merry mumbled to himself.

Pippin's eyes were overly wet and Piccolo was afraid he was going to cry. He hated crying things; be it children, women, or any other living thing. He never knew what to do with them, those soggy, hiccoughing people.

The Hobbit didn't cry though, only clutched one small fist into the hem of Piccolo's tunic and leaned heavily against his legs.

Piccolo slid slowly down the wall and sat with his legs tucked underneath him. As though he had been pulled by some force, Pippin immediately sat down on his lap and snuggled tightly into the crook of Piccolo's arm. The Namek looked down at the curly head and sighed softly, after all Pippin had seen he was still the shaken and innocent Hobbit from months ago.

There was a shaky breath from Merry and Piccolo slowly turned his head to look at the eldest Hobbit. Merry had clutched his hands together to keep them from shaking.

"Hey," Piccolo nudged him lightly with his elbow. Merry blinked wide eyes at him. "Come here," Piccolo nodded to his lap and Merry carefully climbed across from his cousin and burrowed. He could feel the slight tremors that shook the two Hobbits.

Suddenly, Pippin's voice cut the silence as he softly started to sing. A moment later Merry joined him. Piccolo listened to the sweetly, sad song and huddled the two of them closer in a loose embrace.

A gruff, hoarse voice joined in from within the room across from them, and both of the Hobbits were up and across the hall in a second. Piccolo followed after them and stopped dead in the entryway.

Samwise Gamgee was struggling to sit up in his bed, being aided by Aragorn, singing with what little breath was in him.

---

Outside in the gardens, Mirai Trunks was clutching at the outer rim wall with both hands. The heavy rock was cracking slightly under his fingertips and he eased up. The city was already a wreck, there was no need for him to help.

So far no one had spoken, both of Elrond's sons were standing back and fingering flower petals or kicking at pebbles. They only wanted to set the record straight with Mirai, but it was looking to be far harder than they had both anticipated.

Trunks spun and sat on the edge of the building, staring at both of them. Slowly the unabashed anger in him began to fade and his mother's rational brain started to demand his attention.

"So speak, I know there is something going on in those minds of yours. You're both always thinking of something." Trunks tried to smile a little but it wound up more of a grimace.

Elrohir muttered to himself in Quenya before looking Trunks in the eye. "There is." Elladan nodded, sidling up to his brother's side as though trying to absorb some of his strength.

"Well," Trunks motioned with a hand, hoping they wouldn't just clam up.

"Estel told us that you have had a hard life, that we do not understand the depth of it." Elrohir started.

"I'm sure you don't," Mirai said quietly. He slowly slipped down the short wall and sat on the ground, leaning against the stones.

Elladan walked hesitatingly to him and sat down beside him. "Will you share this with us?"

Mirai frowned and looked up at Elrohir. The elf soon joined his brother by sitting at Trunks' opposite side. Sandwiched between the elves, the demi didn't know what to think. "Is my past what bothers you?"

"No! No, we just want to understand," Elladan shuffled a bit closer. "I know that you have explained some to us. About the alternate time, and the deaths of your friends..."

"There isn't much else than that," Mirai said softly. "My whole life was hiding, fighting, scavenging to survive. As cliché as it sounds, the only sure thing was death."

The twins shared a look over Mirai's bowed head; a guilty, saddened one.

Trunks was lost in time for several minutes, remembering the smell of smoky air and the landscape of broken buildings...shattered dreams. He blinked out of it, only realizing he had wept silently by the tears on his lap. He gave both elves a watery grin, "Sorry, got lost for a minute."

"We can't do it, Mirai," Elladan blurted. Elrohir shot his brother a disbelieving look.

The demi-saiyajin shook his head, "I don't know what you mean."

"You deserve better than we can give you. We have many millennia left to age and we just aren't ready settle into a calm life." Elrohir stumbled out, looking only at his brother. He was unable to look at the man sitting between them.

Trunks sat in stupefied silence for a long moment. "I see..." He mumbled absently, his voice tinged with confusion. Suddenly, he began to laugh.

"I--" He started, coughing harshly before he laughed again, harder than before.

The twins looked slightly affronted and began to stand, but Trunks grabbed hold of their cloaks before they got all the way up and pulled them both back to the ground. He was shaking his head and trying his best to calm down.

"I do not see how this is a humorous situation," Elrohir scowled.

Trunks released them and wiped at his face. "I-I'm sorry," he sputtered while shaking his head. "I may not be a teenager anymore, but I'm hardly a spinster." He grinned and laughed again when he realized the twins did not understand anything he had just said.

So instead, he grasped hold of Elrohir's shirt-front and hauled him into a heated kiss. He broke away and laughed again before he did the same to Elladan.

With both elves stunned and speechless, Trunks let out a final peal of laughter and patted them both on the thigh. "I appreciate the concern for my feelings, I do." He shook his head and stifled a bubbling giggle. "But I am not looking for a lifetime commitment here."

Mirai grinned at both of them, hoping that they understood. Slowly, one elf smiled and then the other. Elladan nodded his head sagely, "This is good to know."

A predatory gleam hit Elladan's eyes and he hauled Mirai mostly onto his lap. A solid pull from Trunks brought their lips together again. A growl rumbled in the saiyajin's chest and he curled one hand deeply into the elf's long hair.

A foreign set of warm lips attached themselves to his neck seconds later and Mirai suddenly wished with great fervor for his tail. The thought made him growl, one that turned into a groan seconds later as Elrohir bit down at the juncture of his neck.

Like a bucket of cold water had hit him, Mirai pushed them apart. Both elves panted and looked confused.

"Forgive me, I--" Elrohir started, realizing it was he that caused their impromptu end.

"He is a bit aggressive," Elladan finished for his brother.

A glaze traveled over Mirai's eyes for a moment before he blinked them away. "That's not it," he shook his head, an evil grin quirking his face, "it really isn't." He cleared his throat and touched the love-bite on his neck. "This, however, is tricky."

Elrohir blinked, stared at the love-bite and blinked again. "I still do not understand."

"Have you looked at my father and Goku?" Trunks asked. With a negative shake of the head from both, Mirai let out a painful sounding sigh. "I suggest that you both take a good look at them next time you see them. Specifically in this area," he motioned again to the crimson welt.

"You just said you didn't want to be tied down," Trunks tried to explain.

Elladan grinned wolfishly, "I don't remember saying such a thing."

One of Trunks' eyebrows rose into an arch as he stored that information away for later. "I mean, you don't want to be bonded at this point in your lives. And to a saiyajin, what you nearly did, is the start of a bond."

Elrohir looked aghast, then he pouted. "So, no nibbling on your neck then?"

Trunks shook his head and grinned, "That's fine. But don't bite hard enough to bring blood. Though for now, let's just say we don't until I can talk to Dad. He knows a lot more than I do about this."

Elrohir continued to pout but nodded his ascent anyway. "Of course."

"Trunks!" A deep voice called from the entry. The three of them turned their heads to see Piccolo trying not to roll his eyes at their proximity. "Sam is awake."

The three of them stood as one from the ground and made a hasty retreat into the building. There was already a buzz in the hallway as healers chattered excitedly about the miraculous recovery.

Piccolo was already at the far end of the hall exiting again. Trunks watched him go. "He's gone to fetch your father and Goku," Legolas explained from beside him.

"Oh."

Legolas smirked knowingly at the three of them. Mirai blushed but both twins only grinned and settled closer to their prize.

Aragorn looked frazzled when he came out of the doorway. He had both of the Hobbits by either hand and was dragging them out of the room. "You need to stay here," he told them.

Pippin looked imploringly up at him, eyes wide and childlike. "But Strider, he needs his friends!"

The Gondorian King sighed and pushed them further into the hall. "You need to stay here," he told them both.

The youngest Hobbit began to protest when Merry tugged smartly on his ear. "Remember what Master Piccolo said, Pip."

Pippin nodded and pouted his way to the corner where he sat on a low bench.

Aragorn smiled down at Merry, "Thank you."

"Sure thing, Strider. You just take care of Sam and Frodo." The Hobbit then walked away to sit with his fidgeting cousin.

Legolas filled in Trunks and the twins about what had happened between the Hobbits. Then explained to them the weary, but definitely healing, Samwise Gamgee.

Goku soon exploded from the far end of the hall with Vegeta trailing after him with a sour look on his face. "So where is he?" Goku asked softly, beaming at anyone who would look at him.

"He is still in bed, Goku. He's awake but not 100," Mirai answered him.

"Oh," Goku's face saddened. "That's good though."

The saiyajin stretched and yawned widely. Vegeta rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall. Two sets of probing eyes wouldn't leave him alone and after a frustrating minute, the saiyajin prince snapped around to see Elrond's sons looking at him. "What do you want?" Vegeta growled.

Goku blinked sleepily at the elves and then at Vegeta. "What's going on?"

"They're staring," Vegeta snapped, tired and irritated.

"Forgive me," Elladan spoke. "We were told of your bonding and are trying to understand."

Vegeta quirked an eyebrow and looked at both of the elves and then at his quickly reddening son. "I see."

"You wanna see the mark?" Goku asked. After receiving two hesitant nods, the large saiyajin smiled indulgently and pulled the collar of his tunic down. There at the juncture of his neck and shoulder was a perfect crescent scar.

Both elves looked as though they had finally gotten the punch line of a joke.

Goku tipped his head to the side. "'Geta has one too." He motioned to the Ouji, "show 'em 'Geta."

"I will not," Vegeta snapped.

Goku pouted, then began to send Vegeta lewd images through their bond. Finally the saiyajin prince snapped around and tugged on the collar of his shirt so violently it ripped an inch. The twins both took a quick look at the matching scar on the older saiyajin's neck.

"Are you happy, Kakkarot?" Vegeta hissed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Goku smirked slowly and licked his lips, "Yes."

A slow flush started up Vegeta's neck as he turned away to stare at the end of the hall. "When will we return to our rooms? I'm exhausted."

Goku shrugged, "At least let me look in on, Sam, 'Geta."

"The Hobbit is bedridden Kakkarot. He's not going to run off," Vegeta snapped.

From the corner, Merry and Pippin looked stricken. Goku frowned harshly at his bond-mate, "Vegeta."

The saiyajin prince nearly flinched. "Very well, Kakkarot," he ground out through his teeth.

"You should go to your room and get some sleep, too," Piccolo said quietly to Legolas. The elf blinked up at him in mild surprise. He had been too busy watching Goku and Vegeta's exchange to notice the Namek had come in.

"I will soon," Legolas replied. He glanced up and rolled his eyes playfully at the stern look on Piccolo's face. "Allow me to say farewell's to Sam."

Piccolo watched the elf enter the room and relaxed knowing that Legolas was going to rest soon. Mirai was grinning beside him, but Piccolo ignored him. However, it appeared that meddling saiyajins were going to pester him anyway.

"So, how are things between the two of you," Goku asked innocently.

Piccolo felt his cheeks heat and he snarled, "They are none of your concern."

"Piccolo," Goku said quietly, resting a steady hand on the Namek's forearm until the alien looked down at him. "Have you thought about whether you're going to stay?"

A furrow formed between Piccolo's eye ridges, "What do you mean?"

"The war is over, and the threat of Freeza is gone, Piccolo. If Bulma's fixed the time machine, we could go home as soon as tomorrow."

All inner functions of Piccolo's brain shut down. Tomorrow. He could be home tomorrow without Legolas. Without. Legolas. The words wouldn't fit together and make sense. An irritated twitch ticked at his lip.

"Think it over, what do you want to do?" Goku asked him softly before releasing him.

Legolas came from the room then and smiled up at him, "There, now I'll retire in peace." Piccolo didn't make a motion to show that he had heard. Legolas frowned slightly and stepped into his personal space. "Are you alright, Master Namek?"

Piccolo grunted, "Yea."


	38. Elves arrive at Gondor

Piccolo walked Legolas to his room without another word. When they stopped outside the closed doorway, the elf looked far from happy. "What is the matter?"

"Nothing," Piccolo lied.

"Then there is a whole lot of nothing on your mind," Legolas accused. He stiffened and stood a little straighter, his face losing all semblance of emotion. "Good evening."

Legolas glided into his room but his door would not shut. A green elbow was holding it open.

"Legolas," Piccolo rumbled, eyes filled with conflicting emotion. "I need to talk to you..."

---

Bulma and the entourage of elves made it to Gondor well after nightfall. The town was far from sleeping when they got there and Lord Elrond was already off of his horse and speaking quickly to the healers before Glorfindel had made it in through the gate.

The elfin lord had mounted again in seconds and with a quick word to his senschal, they were all riding to the top of the city.

Bulma was letting out squeaks of unease as the horses climbed the stairs. The sooner she could get down off of the beast the better. And finally, after a terrorizing time, Elrond reigned his horse to a stop and climbed down.

"Ada!"

A surprised voice called out from a nearby entry. Elladan was standing with his twin; Mirai Trunks sandwiched between them. The demi-prince shook them free from him and helped his mother down.

"Where is Estel?" Elrond spoke to his sons, even as he pushed past them and into the hall. He knew they would follow.

Bulma and Trunks were soon alone with three horses as Glorfindel stalked quickly after his Lord. "How are you, Mirai?" Bulma fussed with his shirt, even licking the ball of her thumb and wiping a smudge of dirt from his cheekbone.

Trunks stepped away from Bulma's reach and smiled. "Things are fine. I didn't expect to see you away from your work. Does this mean...?"

The blue haired vixen grinned knowingly and bubbled where she stood, "I've fixed it! Yes! I took one look at the innards of your maching and I saw exactly where I had gone wrong." The woman was beaming. Trunks couldn't help smiling back, he had seen that look on his mother's face numerous times after she had completed a complex project that kept eluding her.

"So that means you'll be going home soon," he smiled sadly. "I bet your children miss you."

"They're resourceful," Bulma said with conviction, "and I'll be home soon enough." She looked momentarily startled and gripped Trunks by the forearm. "Aren't you coming?"

Trunks flushed lightly but smiled and patted her hand, "No."

"Why not?" Bulma asked, a faint trace of anger in her voice.

"I'm going to stay," Mirai said quietly.

Bulma looked cross and opened her mouth to question him further, but Elrond's twin sons came from the entry conspiring. Both sable heads were bent and touching as they whispered crafty words to each other in Quenya. Bulma looked away from them and back to her pseudo-son and her face softened. Trunks was looking over his shoulder at the elves with a wistful look on his face.

Mirai jumped in surprise as Bulma suddenly clung to him. She gave him an extra hard squeeze and released him. "Then I wish you luck."

Trunks blinked in confusion but nodded his head slightly, "Thank you."

"Mirai," Elrohir sidled up to him, looking up through his hair and trying to seem innocent.

With a raised brow of suspicion, the twins turned him and hauled him away. Trunks waved to his mother before he was turned around a corner and gone from sight.

Bulma smiled, the way women are wont to do when they see young love, and sighed.

"Lady Bulma," Elrond called from within the hall. She rolled her eyes and exaggeratedly walked into the hall dragging her feet.

---

Legolas allowed Piccolo to enter and turned to his bed, leaving the Namek to do what he wanted. When he turned back, Piccolo was leaning against the closed door avoiding his eyes.

"You wanted to speak, and yet you aren't talking..." Legolas chided gently. He began to unbraid his hair as Piccolo gathered his thoughts.

"The war is over," Piccolo started, looking around and seeking an area of shade. The far corner was shrouded in darkness, but it was tricky. Hide in the darkness far from an exit, or remain for quick flight and be scrutinized.

"Yes," Legolas spoke slowly, the word came out sounding more like a question than a reply.

The corner it was.

Piccolo walked quickly past him and stood in the darkness, facing the corner for some time before turning to face the room. Legolas was pulling off his boots.

"There is nothing left to keep us here," Piccolo spoke in monotony.

The boot in Legolas' hand dropped to the floor with a great clatter. Piccolo looked up at him. The elf was sitting entirely still, hand suspended in air where it had finally pulled his boot free. His face was pale and his mouth was set in a hard line. "I see."

"I meant that the war, Freeza, they're over and there isn't anything else that needs us to stay." The Namek's eyes glittered in the very low light and his heart was constricted painfully in his chest. He cleared his throat lightly, hoping it would ease.

"There is no more fighting," Legolas finally straightened; one boot still on. "So there is no more use for you," his voice flat.

Piccolo closed his eyes briefly and nodded once.

Legolas stood, wobbling a little and cursing softly in elfish before he quickly tugged off the remaining boot. He stalked forward, one hand culred into a fist and the other flexing. Tentatively, the elf raised a hand and splayed his fingers across Piccolo's left pectoral. "This," he pushed against the marbled muscle beneath his palm, "may no longer be needed. But what is under it..." Legolas trailed off, dropping his hand away.

Piccolo felt his stomach lurch lightly when the elf turned and walked to his traveling sack in the corner.

Upturning the pack on his bed, Legolas wouldn't look over his shoulder as he spoke. "You have no ties and I will not begrudge you for wanting to return to your home," Legolas pulled a loose tunic from the pile and tugged the shirt off of his back.

Piccolo watched Legolas' hair tumble through the neck and fan across his pale back. A few faint scars trailed the elf's pale skin and Piccolo's fingertips itched to trace them. Before he could put the fleeting thought into motion Legolas pulled on his night shirt.

The elf glanced back at him while pulling his tucked hair out of his collar. "When will you leave?"

This was not going as Piccolo had hoped. He wanted a little reassurance, maybe; not necessarily begging or pleading, but something that told him Legolas wanted him to stay.

"I don't know," the Namek crossed his arms over his chest and suddenly missed his cape with a great fervor.

Pushing the loose items back into the bag, Legolas sat down on the edge of the bed and watched Piccolo with calculating eyes. "Is that all you wanted to say?"

An ugly rage washed across Piccolo as the words left Legolas' mouth with no emotion attached to them. He snarled and stalked across the room, ripping the door open and slamming it shut behind him. He walked to his room and kicked his own door shut, ignoring the groans of the stones of the wall.

Apparently he had gotten his answer after all; in an unfeeling question on a stony face. His over-large heart was in ribbons.

---

When morning came, Piccolo staggered into the dining hall and half registered Bulma and Elrond at one end of the table. He sat down heavily into his own seat and glared holes into the empty plate in front of him.

He hadn't slept, nor meditated all night. Legolas' cool and distant face had been branded into his head. Whenever he closed his eyes he saw the elf looking at him with emotionless eyes.

"Uh, Piccolo?"

The Namek snapped his eyes up, boring his heated gaze into Goku's startled face. "What?" He snarled.

"You, uh, okay?" Goku shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Fine," Piccolo spat, snatching up his water glass in one hand. He scowled as it shattered into pieces, soaking his tunic and cutting the palm of his hand. The whole room had grown quiet and several sets of eyes were resting on him in shocked silence.

Piccolo stood, his chair flinging out behind him in a clatter. He stalked from the room trailing water and drops of blood.

Goku looked over at Vegeta, his naive face open and slightly hurt. "Was it something I said?"

Vegeta shook his head and stared at the empty place where Piccolo had sat. "It wasn't you, Kakkarot." His steely onyx gaze snapped down the table where Legolas was sitting at Aragorn's right. It was not where he usually sat. The elf was too busy staring at the empty archway where Piccolo had escaped to notice.

"Well, uh, that was unexpected..." Bulma tittered uncomfortably.

"Hmph," Vegeta grunted, returning to his meal. From the other calculating gazes around the table, it looked as though a select few were thinking what he was. It wasn't his place to question the motives of Piccolo or his elf, and if he had to, he'd keep everyone else from sticking their noses into it as well. He may not like the Namek as Goku did, but he had a respect for him.

"Keep out of it," he mumbled in her direction, recognizing the keen glaze in her eyes when she found a particularly juicy mystery.

"Keep out of what?" She snapped, fixing her ex-husband with a pout.

"It doesn't matter what," Vegeta looked up at her, his fist tightening around the fork in his hand, "just leave the Namek alone."

"Hmph, fine," Bulma turned her back to him. "I didn't care anyway. It's not like Piccolo has any interesting personal issues."

Breakfast continued in stiff silence for a while until Aragorn cleared his throat and attempted to break the atmosphere. "Lady Bulma, Elrond tells me you have fixed your 'machine'."

"Yes," Bulma perked up, laying her utensils down. "It was really rather simple once I figured it out! Of course, Trunks' machine was a big help."

"I am glad," Aragorn smiled at her enthusiasm. "Does this mean you will be returning to your world soon?" He barely noticed that Legolas stiffened beside him.

"Well, yes, I guess it does," Bulma said softly. Her blue eyes shifted carefully to Elrond at the end of the table.

"I do hope you won't leave until after the wedding," Elrond said casually. Aragorn nearly stood out of his seat. The regal elf smiled just slightly and nodded to him, "You do have intentions of marrying my daughter?"

"Of course," Aragorn nodded stiffly, trying his best to remain serious.

"That is good to hear," Arwen's soft voice carried through the hall with ease. Aragorn turned sharply and met her in three strides.

The couple twined together and kissed softly. Bulma let out a coo of contentment and sighed happily.

"Isn't that sweet?"

Vegeta snorted and Goku shrugged. Bulma pouted while she swatted at them with her napkin. "You two have no romantic bones in your body!"

"Sorry Bulma," Goku laughed.

"Don't apologize," Vegeta said sharply. "If you were half as disgustingly sappy as the Onna, I'd have to beat it out of you."

Goku grinned and leaned toward the prince, "Do you promise?"

A sharp canine gleamed from Vegeta's smirk and he gripped Goku tightly by the collar, "Yes."

Vegeta licked his teeth. Goku bent forward and whispered so that only they, and those elves who tried to listen, could hear. "Have I told you today how fantastic you look today?"

The saiyajin prince growled softly and hauled Goku from his chair. He didn't release the taller from his hold by the collar and drug him from the hall; Goku was beaming.

"Those two," Bulma rolled her eyes. "It's always sparring with them."

Elladan and Elrohir shared a look and leaned across the table. "I do not believe it was sparring they had in mind," Elladan grinned.

"But Vegeta said..." Bulma trailed off looking between the identical grinning elves. She looked up to her pseudo-son. Mirai was nodding with a small smile. "Oh," Bulma looked at the entrance where the two of them disappeared and her eyes widened. "Oh!"

"Well, good for them." Bulma said with conviction. "It's about time."

Mirai cocked his head to the side, "You knew?"

"It was inevitable," Bulma shrugged. "They were the last of their kind. Both of them are outcasts, and even if it doesn't seem like it they make a good match. Goku's a little naive sometimes, but he isn't stupid. And as for Vegeta... he needs someone who can keep him in line sometimes." Bulma grinned.

She patted Trunks' hand comfortingly, "I did love your father, Trunks, and I know that he felt something for me too even if it wasn't exactly love. But the two of them," she motioned the doorway where the saiyajins disappeared, "they've got a different connection. An understanding of what it's like to be who they are. I couldn't understand your father no matter how hard I tried sometimes."

"It's okay," Trunks smiled reassuringly. "I'm not upset by it. And I'm glad too. They were alone too long, even if they were surrounded by others."

"Exactly," Bulma smiled. Her son had certainly gotten her brains if nothing else but her eyes.

At the end of the table, Legolas was staring at his plate and frowning.

---

Piccolo took refuge with the Hobbits. Sam was asleep, but he had been up and even out of bed a few times since his initial revival. Frodo was still very much the same. The Namek was sitting in the chair nearest his bedside, staring out the window and listening to the even breathing.

Try as he might, he couldn't help thinking about Legolas again. He was not a creature of many words and he knew even if he lived for millennia alongside the elf, he would never tell him about how he felt. If what he showed him was not enough, then what relationship--if he dared call it that--they had would never work anyway. He did not stroke another's ego, he wasn't about to start.

"Mr. Piccolo?"

"Sam," Piccolo stood from his chair, actually relieved to have his thoughts interrupted. He stood at the foot of the bed and looked the Hobbit over. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Samwise grinned. His stomach let out a grumble and he blushed. "And a bit hungry."

Piccolo smirked, "I'll tell someone you're awake."

A medic in the hall jumped at his call, but was soon bustling toward the kitchen at Piccolo's request for broth for the Hobbit Samwise Gamgee.

He ducked back into the room and touched the small boy's forehead. "You're warm."

"Sorry," Sam mumbled.

Piccolo grunted to keep from laughing. "Don't be." He pulled up a chair between Sam's bed and that of Frodo.

Sam was staring over to the other bed, eyes wide and face pale. "How is he?"

"The same." Piccolo did not lie. The Hobbit swallowed loudly and nodded his head. "The elves looked in on both of you yesterday. Elrond has been looking after him."

"Good," Sam managed to smile a little. "He's a healer."

Piccolo nodded.

"Here you are young Master Gamgee!" A young medic came through the door with a covered platter. Piccolo eyed him warily and the young man blanched but did not retreat. Piccolo respected that.

"I'll be back later, Sam," Piccolo promised, helping the boy sit up amongst his pillows.

"You're leaving?"

Piccolo ignored the pleading eyes--well practiced from years with Gohan--and snorted. "Yes." He motioned to the medic with one large hand. "You need to eat."

"Okay," Sam sighed unhappily as Piccolo walked to the door.

The Namek stopped and looked over his shoulder. In his hardest voice he called back to him, "And you'd better eat it all."

The medic nearly dropped his plate, but Sam only smiled wider and nodded. "Yes, sir."

Piccolo smirked, "Good." And walked out to the garden.

The air was amazingly clean. The taint from Mordor had long since left and the brilliant, crisp smell was back. Piccolo breathed deeply and let out his breath in a rumble. He was going to miss the amazing views and cleanliness of the whole place.

A large tree in full bloom was calling to him from across the gardens. Piccolo perched under it, facing into the sun and curling his legs beneath him. Perhaps if he could manage to meditate, he could look over his whole problems with a fresh mind.

---

"Piccolo!"

Merry was running through the citadel, grinning like a fool and searching for the elusive Namek.

"Piccolo!"

Behind him, and ducking into open rooms to yell too, was Pippin. A woman's surprised scream echoed in the hall and Pippin came barreling out of the room with a bright blush calling his apologies.

Pippin made it to Merry's side, panting and grinning. "The Lady Eowyn was dressing," he supplied, looking a bit guilty.

Merry laughed and continued running, too out of breath to reply.

They stumbled into the gardens and stood with hands on their knees. "Piccolo!" They called together.

"Why are you two causing such a racket?" A low, grumbling voice spoke from behind them. The Hobbits spun and launched themselves at the Namek. He was sitting below a tree and peeking at them from beneath his swaying antennae.

"Piccolo," Pippin wheezed, hugging him tightly about the neck. "Frodo is awake!"

The Namek stood immediately, sending the Hobbit tumbling to the ground with a squeak. "When?"

"Only minutes ago," Merry nodded happily, tugging on Piccolo's tunic and leading the way toward the infirmary.

When Piccolo managed to enter the hall--one Hobbit clinging to each of his legs-- he felt the immense relief and happiness flooding the corridor. People were laughing and smiling, patting each other on the back and hugging briefly.

"There ye are Master Namek," Gimli grinned. He eyed the two Hobbits and motioned to them with his pipe. "I see they found ye alright."

"It's true then." Piccolo could feel the alert ki of Frodo in the room down the hall.

"Aye," Gimli smiled happily, "it is."

The Hobbits hopped down from their ride and ducked between people and between their legs to get into Frodo's room. A great roar of laughter and happiness soon spilled from inside and Piccolo felt heartened to hear it.

He walked toward the room, people moving out of his way as he passed. Before long, Piccolo was standing in the doorway at the same spot he had watched from for days on end. All four Hobbits were piled in one bed, hugging each other and talking animatedly. Frodo's large blue eyes looked up and up until he was smiling softly at Piccolo. The Namek smirked and nodded his head in greeting.

"Perhaps you three ought to give him room."

Piccolo tried not to stiffen at the smooth voice that spoke from his side.

"Aw," Merry groaned from the bed, "Come on, Legolas, you may as well join us rather than ruin the moment."

The elf laughed and stepped into the room. He perched lightly on the foot of the bed and was soon tackled by two rambunctious Hobbits while Frodo and Sam laughed at the foolishness.

Piccolo watched the exchange with a dour face and soon excused himself. He missed the troubled blue eyes that saw him go as quickly as he had come.

---

It was only hours later before Piccolo's solitude was disturbed again. A lightly panting Frodo Baggins settled down beside him beneath the tree.

"You should be in bed," Piccolo chastised, listening to the light rattle in the Hobbit's chest.

"I know," Frodo smiled sheepishly. "But I thought it might be nice to sit with a quite friend."

Piccolo smirked and closed his eyes again. "Merry and Pippin too much for you?"

"They are my favorite people in the world," Frodo admitted, "but I am still too tired for their energy yet."

The Hobbit laughed at Piccolo's snort and settled a little more against the tree bark. It was peaceful in the garden with only the minimal noise from the Healing Hall disturbing the solitude now and then.

"Piccolo," Frodo asked softly. The Namek grunted to show he was listening. A small warm hand rested on his arm and Piccolo opened his eyes to look down. Frodo was frowning up at him. "Are things not well?"

"What do you mean?"

"Between us? Are you angry with me for leaving?"

"No," Piccolo said quietly. "You are brave Frodo Baggins. And I respect you for what you've done. You're a hero."

The Hobbit shook his head and blushed. "I'm no hero."

"Because you don't think you are," Piccolo spoke with a small smirk, "makes you one."

"I don't feel like a hero. I feel lucky," Frodo said, coughing lightly into his fist.

"That's fine." The Namek lifted Frodo to the crook of his arm and stood up. "Don't you know that a hero is only a fool who's gotten lucky?"

"Really?" Frodo asked with a grin.

"Take it from a fellow fool," Piccolo smirked.

He carried the Hobbit back through the garden and toward the entrance to the hall. Frodo didn't object.

"Piccolo?"

"Hmm."

"Are things not well between you and Legolas?" Frodo asked innocently.

Piccolo nearly stuttered to a stop but managed to cover it nicely. "What do you mean?"

"You aren't speaking."

"How do you know, you've only been awake for a few hours."

Frodo poked him in the chest with one finger, "Being tired and being blind are two different things."

They entered Frodo's room and Piccolo lowered the Hobbit back to the bed and pulled the covers up to tuck him in. "The elf and I are fine," Piccolo grumbled.

"The elf," Frodo said skeptically. "He's upset too, you know." Frodo sat up in his sheets.

"Is he?" Piccolo asked in a monotone voice. He kept his face a mask.

"Yes," Frodo nodded, yawning widely before he continued. "You can see it in his eyes."

"In his eyes?" It was Piccolo's turn to sound skeptical.

"Mmhmm." Frodo nodded, laying back amongst his pillows.

"Go to sleep, Frodo Baggins," Piccolo chided. He walked to the entry and stopped as Frodo mumbled in his half-sleep.

"I almost forgot, Strider and the Lady Arwen are to be married tonight."

"Go to sleep," Piccolo demanded softly, smiling when Frodo mock saluted and rolled onto his side.

He returned to his rooms instead of the garden and was accosted in the hallway by two identical elves.

"Come with us," Elladan whispered excitedly.

"Why?" Piccolo frowned at them.

"It's a surprise for this evening!" Elladan smiled brightly.

"They are only dress robes for the wedding," Elrohir explained.

"Oh," Piccolo curled his nose up. "Are they necessary?"

"Yes," both elves exclaimed with matching looks of horror. "It would be a travesty not to wear dress robes to a royal wedding."

"Fine," Piccolo sighed.

The elves held out a hand to point to their rooms in the opposite direction and Piccolo growled as he walked past them. The twins shared evil grins before quickly following him down the hall.


	39. Goodbyes and Farewell Heartbreak

a/n: the songs in this chapter are very clever and fun to hear. Find them from the Brobdingnagian Bards.

---

As the night drew in, so did many of the Gondorians into the great entrance halls. Veils of gossamer were hung in windows, draped into soft arches across the ceilings and wound about pillars. Fresh plants and flowers were set in large vases and great tables of food were set about.

The wedding had been a short affair. Only handfuls of those most important to the bride and groom were invited to attend. Piccolo had been one of those invited to the nuptials, but he chose to forgo it and was not chastised for it. Vegeta would have been more than happy to escape the ceremony, but Goku had drug him along nonetheless.

The reception was a different story altogether. The masses had dressed in their finest to attend. Couples wore matching themes or colors, those without wore what they would, and the joy of a marriage was more than enough to push out the remains of the war for one night.

Music was soft and lulling, a mix of human instruments and elfin voices. Arwen was sparkling beside her husband, and the ranger had never looked more content with the world.

Piccolo slipped in quietly, melding into the shadows and bypassing the crowds by walking behind the walls of curtains. The twins had jabbed him with a series of straight pins for nearly an hour until he told them they had better make do and tore the material off of his body.

He had heard them screaming and swearing in Quenya while he retreated down the hall, but somehow the two of them had managed to piece it back together and corner him before the wedding to proffer their creation.

As per their unrelenting request, he put the piece on and suffered their last minute tweaking and followed them to the reception. The robes themselves weren't too awful. In fact, the lengthy train at the back made him feel like he was wearing his cloak and he felt oddly at ease with it. It was fitted, unlike the tunic and usual gi he wore. The material was stiff but breathable; how the twins had managed to make him such a garment in such a short time was beyond his scope of imagination.

Vegeta was the first to spot him and the saiyajin grinned evilly and ground his elbow into Goku's side. The pair of them wore shifts of crimson bordered in charcoal stitching over matching black pants. There were differences in design so that they did not wear the same style, but it was clear to others that they were there as one with the other.

"Great Kami, Namek, who dressed you?"

"Shut up, Vegeta."

Goku elbowed the shorter saiyajin and gave him a scolding look. "You look great, Piccolo."

Piccolo raised one eye ridge with a sarcastic look on his face. Goku reassured him, but Piccolo wasn't listening. Too many people were turning to look at him; mostly because he was so very large that he stood head and nearly shoulders over everyone else in the hall. He was, however, relieved to see that everyone else was wearing chunks of solid color. One color tops, one color bottoms. The garment the elves had made for him was navy with strips of white down his sides as well as the cape behind him.

Bulma's laughter reached them before she managed to appear. She grinned up at Piccolo and tugged smartly on his shirt hem to straighten it. He slapped at her hands but she had already let go and backed away. "Don't you all look smart!"

"Thanks, Bulma," Goku beamed, slinging an arm over Vegeta's shoulders.

"They're going to start the dancing soon," She tittered excitedly. "I expect it will be like ballroom dancing or something like that."

The males around her looked at each other awkwardly and nodded unenthusiastically at the raving woman.

To the surprise of most of the elves present--as well as the saiyajins and Piccolo--Lord Elrond came around to fetch Bulma, dressed in identical colors of jade. "If you would come with me, Lady Bulma, we will lead the others."

Bulma giggled and took his offered hand, giving those she left behind a thumbs up before hurrying along after the elf.

"If you think I'm going to dance with you, you are sadly mistaken," Vegeta grumbled, sidestepping away from Goku.

"Come on, 'Geta, I'm a good dancer!" Goku promised with a grin.

Vegeta arched an eyebrow and snorted, "With your coordination?"

"Hey, I'm a good fighter, I have to have good coordination for that don't I?"

"Yes," Vegeta grudgingly admitted. "But dancing is not fighting," he added hurriedly.

"I promise not to step on your toes..." Goku pleaded.

"No."

"Come on, 'Geta, just once."

"No."

Piccolo watched the two of them with detached amusement. They had a bit of a stare down moments later and Vegeta was the first to look away as a blush heated his face.

"Very well." He spat, crossing his arms over his chest.

Goku grinned evilly, "Great."

"I don't dare to think about what you bribed him with." Mirai Trunks spoke as he walked up behind them. On either side of him were Elrond's twin sons. All three of them wore similar colors; and were undoubtedly attracting a lot of attention.

Vegeta let out an aggravated grumble and Goku laughed.

"You look fetching, doesn't he look fetching?" Elladan asked his brother innocently, motioning toward Piccolo with the hand that wasn't tucked neatly in the crook of Trunks' elbow.

"He does," Elrohir nodded his head approvingly. "Why, I would be surprised to think anyone could match him with such a wondrous outfit."

Piccolo looked at each of them suspiciously.

"You do look nice, Piccolo," Trunks said sincerely. He did not know that the twins had been part of it.

"Thank you," Piccolo grumbled. He crossed his arms over his chest and walked toward a far pillar, content to hold it up for the night if everyone would leave him alone.

Within the next several minutes, candles were lit and scattered and the music changed subtly until it became a light waltz. Aragorn and Arwen were given plenty of room by the onlookers and after a few moments, Elrond and Bulma soon joined. Shortly after, Trunks with Elrohir while Elladan stood back pouting.

It was a long five minutes more until Piccolo felt eyes boring into him. He looked around and saw no one. Agitated, he looked harder and nearly jumped out of his skin when someone tugged on his pant leg. He sighed heavily to see Merry and Pippin at his feet. The two of them were dressed nicely in fresh, crisp white tunics.

"You look quite lovely," Pippin giggled up at him, laughing harder as Piccolo scowled at him.

"What do the two of you want?" Piccolo asked with a little more bite than he intended.

"Would you mind helping us with a scheme?" Merry asked with a twinkle of mischief in his eye.

"What are you planning," Piccolo squatted to their level, his face the mask of a mentor who would easily chastise before helping.

"Nothing bad," Pippin said quickly.

"He means, nothing too bad," Merry added with a grin.

"You aren't going to ruin the dancing are you? I think this is part of the ritual," Piccolo frowned in thought. Even if he wasn't enjoying himself didn't mean he was going to ruin the happiness of Aragorn and his new bride.

"Oh, heaven's no!" Merry promised. He leaned forward and stage whispered, "It's after this particular dance, you see."

"Why do you need my help?"

"We can't get up on the stage, we're too short," Merry said with a straight face.

Pippin nodded vigorously. "And we've tried," he added helpfully.

"How bad, is bad?" Piccolo asked, getting curious.

"Oh, nothing wholly awful. But it is Hobbit custom to sing and tell a horribly embarrassing story on the day of a wedding." Pippin grinned, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"I don't know," Piccolo stood upright and looked out over the crowd of people.

"Well fine!" Came an incredulous cry at his feet. "We'll get up there ourselves then." Merry harrumphed and stalked off with Pippin in tow.

He thought about warning someone that the two Hobbits were scheming, but it was almost too late to bother. By the time he stepped away from the pillar and began to track down Elrond there was a murmur of confusion and he saw the two trouble-makers on the stage.

"Good evening everyone," Pippin called out cheerily as the music stuttered to a halt. There was a bit of tittering in the crowd and Piccolo saw Aragorn and Arwen walk to the stage only Frodo and Sam cut in front of them. The ranger bent and listened for a moment before standing with a shake of his shaggy head and motioning for the Hobbits to continue.

Heartened, Merry stepped forward and winked down at his cousins. "We apologize for stopping your dancing, but there is plenty of time for that! For, Peregrin Took and I--"

"Meriadoc Brandybuck," Pippin cut in helpfully.

"are here to bless this occasion as Hobbits do. With a bit of laughter and ale!" At the last word, A nearby elf--who looked suspiciously like Elladan--set a tankard down before the two of them. Each Hobbit filled a glass and took a heavy drink before grinning back out at the crowd.

"To start we have a song for you and everyone should have a mug of drink!" Pippin cried with a great laugh.

Many men laughed with him and greedily took up their mugs. Gimli hobbled to the front of the crowd and stood with a smirk and took his drink from the Hobbit's tankard.

"If you know the words, feel free to sing along, it is a Hobbit tradition!" And Merry started to sing, soon joined by Pippin.

"I'll tell you a story that happened to me

one day as I went down to Yore by the sea.

The sun it was bright and the day it was warm,

Says I, 'a quiet pint wouldn't do me no harm.'

I went in and I called for a bottle of stout;

says the barman, 'I'm sorry, all the beer is sold out.

Try whisky or paddy, ten years in the wood.'

Says I, 'I'll try cider, I've heard that it's good!'

Oh never, oh never, oh never again

if I live to a hundred or a hundred and ten.

I fell to the ground and I couldn't get up

after drinking a quart of that Johnny Jump Up."

Roars of laughter echoed in the hall and Aragorn shook his head in fake regret. As the two Hobbits continued, their voices were joined by those of Sam and Frodo, though the voice of the latter was weaker than the others.

"After downing the third I went out in the yard

where I bumped into Brody, the big civic guard.

'Come here to me boy, don't you know I'm the law?'

Well, I up with me fist and I shattered his jaw!"

A great cry went up in the hall as men cheered and sloshed ale; and somewhere behind the Hobbits, a drummer began to keep time.

"He fell to the ground with his knees doubled up.

But it wasn't I hit him, 'twas Johnny Jump Up.

And the next thing I met down in Yore by the sea,

Was a cripple on crutches and says he to me,

'I'm afraid for me life I'll be hit by a car

Won't you help me on down to the Railwayman's Bar?'

After drowning a pint of that cider so sweet,

he threw down his crutches and danced on his feet.

I went up the lee road, a friend for to see.

They call it the madhouse in Cork by the lee;

and when I got there, sure the truth I will tell,

They had the poor bugger locked up in a cell.

Said the guard, testing him, 'Say these words if you can,

around the rugged rocks the ragged rascal ran.'

Tell him I'm not crazy, tell him I'm not mad!

It was only a sip of that bottle I had."

By now, the stomping of feet to keep time kept the court hall thumping and the women allowed themselves to laugh aloud with their men. Pippin held up a small hand and choked down a giggle to finish the song as he raised his tankard in the other.

"Well a man died in the mines by the name of McNabb,

They washed him and laid him outside on the slab,

and after the coroners measurements did take,

his wife took him home to a bloody fine wake.

Twas about 12 o'clock and the beer it was high

and the corpse he sits up and says with a sigh,

'I can't get to heaven, they won't let me up

'til I bring them a quart of that Johnny Jump up.

Oh never, oh never, oh never again

If I live to a hundred or a hundred and ten

I fell to the ground and I couldn't get up

after drinking a quart of that Johnny Jump Up!"

Laughter lasted long and hard in the hall and both Hobbits bowed deeply to the applause and cheers from the gathered. Both Hobbits were grinning and dribbling drink down their chins, one arm about the other as they took in the attention like dry sponges.

Puffing, Frodo soon joined beside them, his face flushed a little and he patted them both on the back. Slowly the noise died down as they stood in wait of what the little ones would do next. Frodo conversed quietly with his cousins for a moment then stepped forward as they stepped sideways to make room for him at the front.

"It isn't always laughs to be had," Frodo started, his voice rough and throat dry. Samwise appeared beside him with a mug of water and the other took it with a nod of thanks. "So we can stop this madness and let Strider and the Lady Arwen celebrate as they should, I've gotten the word of my cousins that one more song is enough."

A great roar of approval came from the surrounding audience and Frodo held up his small hands. "The war we fought isn't so easily forgotten, and I don't mention it to bring down our spirits, but I think it would be fitting for me to finish this 'Hobbit festivity' with a song we sing at both weddings and funerals. To honor the beginnings and the ends."

A murmur of assent went through the crowd and ale mugs were set down and forgotten as the soberness of the mood settled in.

Frodo cleared his throat and looked down at the ranger and bowed his head to them. "I'm not much of a singer," he tittered in nervousness before he cleared his throat again and started to sing. It didn't matter that his voice was low from his illness, it was heard clear to the back.

"Kind friends and companions, come join me in rhyme

come and lift up your voices in chorus with mine.

Let us drink and be merry, all grief to refrain

for we may and might never all meet here again."

As the soft strains of the first stanza went, the other Hobbits carefully chorused their voices with Frodo's, wary not to drown him out.

"Here's a health to the company and one to my lass

let us drink and be merry all out of one glass.

Let us drink and be merry, all grief to refrain,

for we may and might never all meet here again.

Here's a health to the wee lass that I love so well

for style and for beauty, sure none can excel.

There's a smile on her countenance as she sits on my knee

sure there's no one in this wide world as happy as we.

Our ship lies at harbor, it's ready to dock.

I wish it safe landing without any shock.

And if ever I should meet you by land or by sea,

I will always remember your kindness to me.

Here's a health to the company and one to my lass

let us drink and be merry all out of one glass.

Let us drink and be merry, all grief to refrain,

for we may and might never all meet here again."

Frodo's scratchy voice faded out and he raised his glass to everyone and drank greedily from the water within. A murmur ran through the crowd and slowly everyone raised their glasses as well and drank deeply.

Aragorn helped the Hobbit down from his perch and hugged him a moment with a sad smile. "Thank you, Frodo Baggins."

"You're welcome, Strider."

When the remaining Hobbits were lowered, the rest of the band and singing elves floated back to the stage and began to start playing again.

The Hobbits were greeted quite happily by the many people as they passed. Frodo was looking a bit piqued by the many pats on the back and vigorous shaking of hands. Piccolo swooped into a huddle of people and cleared his throat. Most of them backed away with wary looks while the Namek bent down and plucked the Hobbit neatly from them.

"Come on, kid."

As he walked away with the young Hobbit clinging to his neck, Frodo yawned and muttered, "Thank you."

Piccolo walked him back to the infirmary and lay him on his bed, snapping open a blanket and draping it across the boy's form. Frodo was asleep long before the blanket touched him.

He returned to the dancing hall--though he didn't know why since he had a good excuse to leave and not return. Goku had indeed gotten Vegeta out onto the floor and both of them were looking very focused on not tripping over each others toes to notice the odd looks they were getting from those around them.

Trunks was getting his fair share of funny glances as he tried to waltz about with an elf in each arm. Apparently the twins had gotten tired of watching the other having fun and ambushed him.

"Poor fool," Piccolo grinned to himself.

"Do you mean the young saiyajin prince or the older?"

Piccolo schooled his features and kept looking ahead. "Both."

Legolas let out a half sigh, "It is not so bad as it seems. At least they have someone to hold on to."

Try as he might not to look at the elf, Piccolo still found himself glancing down. He stopped the groan that would have come out and glared back out at the twin elves in Mirai's arms. The blonde elf beside him was wearing a very similar outfit, without the cape, and with the colors inverted. He wore a crisp white with navy side ties; but the style was exactly the same.

"You have been prey to the Perehnil, haven't you?" Legolas laughed softly and looked up at him. "Either that, or you are a quick tailor. By the look on your face, you have been had."

"They told me dress robes were important," Piccolo explained gruffly.

"They are. But we match a little too closely for coincidence." Legolas smiled wistfully. The smile fell from his face a moment later and a stony mask fell back into place. "But that hardly matters. You are leaving in a few hours time anyway."

"So it would seem," Piccolo growled.

"You have nothing to say to me," Legolas snapped, glaring up at him.

"No," Piccolo hissed. "Though I'm sure you're going to spout something prophetic and stalk off in a self-righteous huff."

The elf blanched and clenched his jaw, stalking off into the crowd. Piccolo glared after him, his insides boiling and he felt like he would vomit.

Across the floor, the twins of Elrond groaned unhappily to each other and made their excuses to Trunks.

Elladan trailed quickly after Piccolo as the Namek stormed from the hall, most likely bound for his chambers.

"Wait!" The elf ran, trying to catch up. Piccolo only sped up further. "Namek, hold, I said!"

"I'm not your servant," Piccolo growled, jerking out of the elf's reach.

"Just listen to me, please," Elladan finally snagged a handful of cape. Piccolo kept walking and slowly the stitching began to tear until the elf was left holding a dissected chunk of white cloth. "At least explain it to me," he pleaded to Piccolo's back.

The Namek stopped and turned harshly on his toes. He stalked forward and grabbed Elladan by the front of his robes, hauling him into a nook in the hallway and hissing down at his face. "What makes you think you have a right to know anything? You don't know me."

"No," Elladan said sharply, "But Legolas is my friend and I have a right to know why you want to hurt him."

"Who said I wanted to?" Piccolo growled, sharp eyes scanning the hallway to make sure it stayed clear.

"Then why do you keep purposely pushing him away?" Elladan shook himself free and smoothed down his chest.

"Because it doesn't belong," Piccolo hissed, fists clenching and unclenching.

"What doesn't belong?" The elf asked softly, truly curious.

"I don't." Piccolo said flatly. "I was never meant to be here, this was never meant to happen."

"But you were happy," Elladan said carefully, "both of you."

"That was a mistake too."

"How can you be so sure?" The elf demanded.

"It's not how it's supposed to be! Don't ask me why, that's just how it is." Piccolo growled and spun out of the nook. He began his trek back to his rooms and growled as Elladan tugged at his tunic again.

"So you alone? He alone? Both of you unhappy, that's how it is supposed to be?" Elladan was exasperated.

"Yes!" Piccolo's voice echoed down the length of the hall. He quieted and fixed the youngest son of Elrond with a hard stare. "At least, it is for me."

Elladan watched him walk farther away and did not follow. Instead he called down the hall, "So you leave because you want to be alone?"

Piccolo drew up short and spoke without looking back. "No."

"Then why!"

"Because it is what I am." Piccolo started to walk again and did not stop.

"What is? Being alone? Being lonely? Being unloved?" Elladan called after him, but the Namek did not stop and soon disappeared around the corner.

Elladan made his sad way back to the great hall alone.

In a crook in an adjacent hall, Elrohir removed his hand from Legolas' mouth and watched his friend sadly. When he had tackled Legolas into the private space, he nearly had to throttle him to get him to listen to what he wanted. Before he had the chance to explain, his brother and the Namek had come and he settled for what came to hand.

They had stood in the darkness, he keeping Legolas still and mute, and both of them had listened to the depressing words from the other hall. With each melancholy reply, Elrohir felt his friend sag a little.

"Are you alright, melanin?" He asked softly.

Legolas nodded jerkily.

"He loves you still," Elrohir soothed. "I think he just does not know how to be loved in return."

The corner was very quiet. Legolas did not respond and Elrohir pressed a kiss to his friend's forehead. "Go to bed, it will be clearer in the daylight."

Legolas nodded numbly and walked away.

---

At the crack of dawn the Ningen earth's creatures stood in a half circle around Bulma's time machine. The gaudy thing was set in the center of the town square. Those members of the Fellowship had gathered to see them off.

The only person missing was Legolas. The elf had made no appearance, no body made his condolences and--when Piccolo checked earlier to see if he was on his way--the elf's ki was still high up in the citadel.

Mirai Trunks came from inside the florescent pink bubble and gave his mother a thumbs up, "It's all set."

Bulma's eyes swam in tears and she latched onto him, hugging him tightly and petting his long lilac hair. "If you ever want to see us, all you have to do is pop home, okay? You'll always be welcome."

Between the sniffs and sobs Trunks managed to thank her and mumbled little words of encouragement.

Gimli and the Hobbits were making their way down the stairs, all huddled around Frodo who refused to be helped. As soon as they managed it to the square, Merry and Pippin bounded ahead to chatter away at their leaving friends, leaving Sam to tend to Frodo.

"Mr. Piccolo," cried Pippin, launching at the Namek's knees. He hugged the large alien's thigh and grinned up at him. "It has been an honor to know a creature as large--"

"And green," Merry cut in with a grin.

"And green," Pippin added, "as you. I only wish you could make it to the Shire. They'll never believe us."

Piccolo looked down on them with a tight smirk and ruffled the curls on either of their heads. "With the tales you tell? It's a wonder."

"Come now," Merry said in his defense, "they're only a tweaked a little."

"Yes, like the story about when Merry got lost in a burr patch. We were plucking prickly pears from his --mmmphmmm," Pippin giggled behind Merry's hand and swatted at him.

Young Brandybuck grinned with a blush, "Pay him no attention, he's only making things up."

"I am not!" Pippin argued, and soon both Hobbits were grappling on the ground, rolling over each other on the cobbled walkway.

Frodo puffed up to Piccolo's side and smiled at their antics. "Take care, Piccolo."

"You too, Frodo," The Namek smiled at him. He couldn't see Gohan's face on the Hobbit's anymore, it was all Baggins.

Goku was taking hugs from the Hobbits next while Vegeta snorted and refused to be manhandled--by anyone other than Goku at any rate.

Gandalf and Aragorn went around to each of them, giving heartfelt thanks and gratitude for the help they gave. A small diskette engraved with the Gondor seal was handed to each of them in turn. "A measly, trifle of a token to show you our appreciation," Aragorn explained.

"Thanks," Goku beamed, examining his with a keen eye and stuffing it into his pocket. Vegeta grunted and pocketed his without bothering to look at it.

Piccolo's, oddly enough, was the only one strung on a chain. He puzzled at it and took it in his large hands.

"I remember you telling me that you had no real place to call home," Aragorn said softly. "I wanted to make sure you remembered us, even if you don't have a hearth to put that upon."

"Thank you," Piccolo was still confused but slipped the chain over his head at the expectant look he was getting from Aragorn and Gandalf. The silver disk settled just below his collarbone.

Gandalf paused as Aragorn moved away and took something from the inside of his robes. "Here," and he passed the sensu bean bag to him. "When you left it, I knew whatever had been inside was important. So I've taken the liberty of placing something inside it. If ever you feel the need to remember how well you are loved here, only look inside. What is there is meant only for you."

Piccolo began to open the bag to see what it was the aged wizard was blathering on about, but Gandalf stopped him.

"Only when you are on your earth again. If the time passes and you feel you don't need to see what is inside, then burn it."

The cryptic message was annoying beyond belief but Piccolo grunted and stuffed it unhappily into his pocket.

"Come on guys, we're ready to go," Bulma called from inside the capsule machine. She turned a watery smile to Elrond who had stood at the outskirts of the friends. The elf returned it and raised a hand to her.

"So how do we do this?" Vegeta asked. They weren't all going to fit inside, but if Bulma had fixed the broken pieces, the shielding should only move the machine.

"Don't worry, it's been calibrated. All you have to do it be touching it. When I get home, I can sharpen the focus so it's only the machine and whoever is inside."

Vegeta gave her a raised eyebrow and the woman huffed, "Just touch the damned machine, Vegeta!"

"Fine, onna!" The saiyajin prince spat and slammed his hand onto it, denting the metal slightly.

"Damn it, Vegeta!" Bulma shrieked.

Goku got between the two of them and tried to keep them from killing each other.

Piccolo shook his head and took his last steps toward the machine. Mirai waved to him, and the twins were both giving him pitious looks. The Namek was glad he was leaving. After the emotional outburst last night, he certainly didn't feel like facing them again.

Tentatively, Piccolo flattened his palm against the cool metal of the machine and looked out at the faces that were the most important to them all over the last few months. The Hobbits were clutching each other, singing a silly song and waving melodramatically; Gimli beside them with his pipe in his teeth. Mirai and his elves were smiling sadly, flanked by Elrond and Glorfindel. Aragorn and Arwen were arm in arm, watching in silence.

"Are you guys ready?" Bulma called from behind the glass. They all nodded and she let out a slow breath. "In five..."

Behind the group of onlookers, high up the steps a blur of movement caught Piccolo's attention.

"Four..."

As the figure rounded the next flight, the streak of platinum hair flying out behind left no doubt that it was Legolas running at full tilt to the central square.

"Three..."

His heart tightened painfully as he saw the elf barreling. Legolas had rounded the final flight and was coming down the long stretch of cobbled road. Even at the distance Piccolo could see his crystalline eyes widened in panic.

"Two..."

By now, the others had noticed and Piccolo could barely hear the shouting of their voices over the high-pitched whine of the engines next to his head. Legolas was slowing, but had no intentions it seemed to stop with those gathered to watch. He tried to push past them.

"One..."

Piccolo caught the elf's eye just as he managed to push through to the front. One pale arm stretched as far as it could. Before the Namek could reach out with his own, a crackle of lightening bubbled around them. He saw, more than heard, Legolas scream out 'no' before the whole of middle earth blanked out.

---

The first thing to happen upon their return was the incredulous look from Trunks. He pointed at his mother--still in her elfin dress-- then his father still in a tunic and leggings, before falling to his posterior on the ground.

"You just left," he mumbled, face scrunched in confusion.

"Oh, Trunks!" Bulma launched herself at him and held him tightly, squeezing until the young demi began to turn blue. She finally dropped him, but didn't let him out of her grasp. "I've missed you so much! How are you?"

"Mom..."

"How is your sister?"

"Mom."

"Did you clean your room like I asked?"

"Mom!" Trunks yelled, waving a hand in front of her face. Bulma finally stopped speaking and looked down at him expectantly. "You have been gone for twenty minutes, of course I'm alright." He looked sideways and spoke quickly out of the side of his mouth, "And no I didn't clean my room."

"Twenty minutes?" Bulma breathed, blinking in surprise. She suddenly latched onto Trunks and shook him. "What do you mean you haven't cleaned your room? I told you to three days ago! You promised you'd do it today! You march upstairs and get to it young man!"

"But Mom, you just got back from some cool adventure! I want to hear about it!"

"March!" Bulma pointed viciously toward the house.

"Oh, man..." Trunks whined, stomping his way back into Capsule Corps.

Bulma turned back to the others. "Only twenty minutes."

"How did we manage that? We must have spent months there..." Goku scratched at his head, thoroughly confused.

"Mirai said he was going to set the machine. He must have put it back to when he thought we would have left. At least then we wouldn't lose so much time here." Bulma smiled sadly. "He's such a clever boy."

"Come on, Kakkarot, just because you've been on vacation doesn't mean you can slack off any longer. We're going to train." Vegeta began to march off toward the gravity machine, but Goku stayed standing on the spot. Vegeta stopped and glanced back over his shoulder, "Kakkarot?"

"I-I can't 'Geta." Goku said softly. His large brown eyes turned sadly down on his mate. "I'm supposed to take ChiChi to a doctor's appointment in an hour."

"The woman?"

"She's still my wife, Vegeta." Goku tried to explain, but Vegeta had already turned viciously on his heel and began to walk away. "Vegeta, wait!"

"Go on, Kakkarot! Run to your woman, she needs you," Vegeta hissed, blasting off into the air and locking himself into his Gravity Chamber moments later.

Goku stared off after him, his shoulders sagging. Vegeta... He tried to reach him mentally, but a painful, heart-wrenching ache came across the bond before Vegeta shut his mind.

The large saiyajin felt his head pound and his own heart squeeze painfully in his chest. He set his face in stone and turned to the others. "Fine. I'm going to get ChiChi. I'll see you all later." He took three steps before turning back, "If you see Vegeta, tell him... tell him goodbye for me."

Piccolo and Bulma watched as Goku blasted into the air, disappearing within seconds.

"Oh no," Bulma put a hand to her mouth. "This is going to be so hard." She turned teary eyes to Piccolo. The Namek grunted in response. "How are we supposed to explain that we lived for so long somewhere else, when the only people that knew we were missing were Trunks and Goten?"

"I don't know." Piccolo rumbled. He was trying to control his breathing. The air here in the city seemed more foul than ever before.

"Piccolo," Bulma said hesitantly. "I saw Legolas coming for you... Are you alright?"

Piccolo sucked in a sharp breath and took two long strides, "I'm going to see Dende."

Bulma nodded numbly as she watched him go too. It was going to be so much harder to go back to their routines than she ever imagined.


	40. Epilogue: PiccoloLegolas

a/n: Some reviews I've gotten are for the finish of a great story (thanks by the way!) but I do have a rough, wrap up epilogue chapter for each of our couples! So, here's P/L. There is also a G/V and a T/Twins coming before I am completely through!

---

Piccolo landed soundlessly on the Lookout. He stopped to look over the earth and breathe the thin air. The atmosphere around the Lookout was always the purest of all the rest. But even it wasn't as crisp and refreshing as it had been on Middle Earth. His stomach rolled uncomfortably and for a moment he saw Legolas screaming and reaching out from the hold of his friends.

"Piccolo?"

The Namek blinked out of his reverie and turned to see Dende smiling gently up at him. "Dende," he rumbled, horrified to feel his heart ache to see the young Namek again. "You're a sight for sore eyes."

The youthful alien blinked, confused, and shook his head a little. "Well, it's good to see you too, Piccolo." Dende looked him over a little more thoroughly and frowned, "are you alright?

Piccolo sighed deeply and began his trek to the innards of the Lookout. He paused when he opened the outer door and looked back at Dende. "Would you have tea with me, Dende?"

"Sure," the young Namek looked surprised but quickly shuffled his robes and followed his elder.

They walked quietly toward a large open room, high windows open allowing a sweet breeze to move through. They sat amongst multiple plush pillows at a low table. Popo entered from a side door and stepped back in surprise. "Mr. Piccolo, Dende, can I get anything for you?"

"Some tea would be nice, thank you," Dende smiled as the gardener quickly went to fetch them something to drink.

"Piccolo," Dende swallowed a little and cocked his head to the side, "you look a little out of it."

The Namek grinned bitterly and shifted, pulling his weighted cloak and turban from his body and setting them to the side. Dende tried not to look surprised, but Piccolo didn't mind.

Popo returned with a smile and tray. He pushed it to the middle of the table and arranged the saucers and cups, idly pouring out the weak drink into each cup before excusing himself and returning to his flowers.

"How are things, Dende?" Piccolo asked suddenly, plucking up his cup in one massive hand.

"Um, fine," Dende looked confused as he sipped his tea.

"No problems, then? No questions on how to be a guardian?"

"No," Dende cocked his head again, a pensive look on his face. "Have I done something wrong?"

"No," Piccolo replied quickly. "I just…wondered if you needed me."

The young Namek smiled, "Oh, well. No, I suppose I don't."

"Oh," Piccolo said gruffly into his cup, "good."

They sipped in silence. Piccolo could feel Dende watching him carefully, trying to figure out the riddle that Piccolo had presented to him. Soon, only the dregs of the cup remained and Piccolo set it back on the table.

"Piccolo, are you sure you're okay?"

"Fine," Piccolo replied. He stood from the pillows and retrieved his cape and turban. "Thanks for the tea."

"Sure Piccolo, anytime," Dende watched him leave and scratched his head in wonder.

---

Piccolo made his way to the waterfall. The forest home had never looked so welcoming. He landed on a smooth stone that protruded from the surface of the water and listened to the rush of the waterfall. The sound was still amazingly soothing and the cool mist that blew from it refreshed his skin just as it always did.

Dende didn't need him. Piccolo frowned as the thought leapt to his mind. But it was true. Dende hadn't needed his council for several years now. The young Namekian guardian had learned quickly and knew how to improvise when the answers eluded him. He was young and able, quick witted and more than capable.

With a sigh of regret, Piccolo stepped up into the air and directed himself toward Gohan and Videl's house.

---

Legolas would not talk to anyone. As soon as the neon bubble had left Middle Earth with a crack and nothing stayed behind but a scorch mark, he had jerked from the grasp that held him.

The twin sons of Elrond had tried to speak to him, but he would hear none of their blather. It had been their fault, he decided. If they had only let him go where he had wanted last night, he could have fallen into Piccolo's bed and maybe have something to cling to now that the alien was gone. He might even have been able to get the Namek to stay.

He was a fool.

Frodo popped his head into Legolas' room and smiled weakly at him. "Is it alright if I come in?"

The elf nodded and the Hobbit carefully made his way across the room to sit on the bed next to him.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Legolas shook his head.

"Would you like something to eat?"

He shook his head again.

"You aren't going to die are you?"

Legolas looked down at the Hobbit sharply and saw the worry behind the tears in Frodo's eyes.

"No," he croaked and hugged the Hobbit. "I am not going to die."

"But, everyone says that an elf can die of a broken heart," Frodo said quietly, scrubbing quickly at his eyes.

"They can," Legolas admitted. "But I will not."

"You're sure?" Frodo asked, blue eyes still troubled.

"I am sure." Legolas smiled weakly.

"Good," the Hobbit said with a smile of his own. They sat in companionable silence for a time before Frodo turned curious eyes to him. "Did you love him?"

The elf was a little taken aback and took a moment to compose himself. "I cared for him more than any other creature I've met."

"So you don't care about him anymore now that he's gone?"

Legolas blinked in surprise and shook his head, "I do."

Frodo nodded, satisfied. With a slight blush, he hugged Legolas briefly and stood up. "We'll be leaving soon: Merry, Pip, Sam and I. We're going home."

"I am glad for you, Frodo Baggins," Legolas drug up a smile.

"Are you going home after this?" Frodo asked.

Legolas stiffened and shook his head. "I don't think so."

"Why not?" The Hobbit said quietly, knowing he was treading on a wire edge.

"I am no longer welcome," Legolas said softly. "Don't bother yourself with it, Frodo. Go home and be happy."

The Hobbit nodded and waved a little as he left.

Legolas watched him go and sighed heavily. It looked as though no matter what he did, those things that he cared for were leaving him.

---

The small capsule house was reminiscent of that of Goku's. Videl was outside hanging clothes on the line when Piccolo touched down.

"Hello, Piccolo," Videl said briskly as she shook out a shirt.

"Where's Gohan?"

"Inside with Pan," Videl motioned idly with one hand to the house.

Piccolo grunted and moved beyond her and opened the door. He heard laughter from his student followed quickly by a squeal of laughter from Pan. Gohan was sitting on the couch with Pan clinging to his head like a monkey. The girl had one fist bound tightly in Gohan's hair and the other was swinging wildly as though her father were a bronco.

"Oh, hey, Piccolo!" Gohan beamed. He pulled Pan from the back of his head and bounced her on his knee.

"Hey kid," Piccolo smirked. Pan giggled and reached out for him and Piccolo plucked her up with one hand.

Pan squealed with delight, but Gohan lunged forward to catch his daughter as she wiggled precariously.

"Careful!" Gohan gasped out, balancing his daughter's bottom with one hand.

Piccolo frowned and curled the girl to his chest with his arm, "Relax, Gohan."

"She's still small, Piccolo, Videl would have my head if she saw that." Gohan shook his head and motioned them toward the kitchen. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No, I just had tea with Dende," Piccolo replied, grunting as Pan tugged on one of his ears.

"Oh," Gohan sat down with a cup of coffee and offered to take his daughter. Piccolo deposited the girl with him and sat down opposite. "It must be your day for visiting then."

Piccolo watched Gohan play with his child.

"I heard that Bulma called Dad over there this morning, is everything alright?"

"Fine," Piccolo frowned. "She finished her time machine."

"That's great," Gohan grinned lifting Pan over his head with one arm and shaking her lightly until she giggled ecstatically.

"Yea, great."

"What's the matter, Piccolo?" Gohan set Pan down on her feet. "Pan, why don't you go help your Mom, okay?"

"'k, dad!" Pan giggled, hugging her father's knee and fleeing the house in a flurry of color.

"Piccolo?"

The Namek grunted. A distant look glazed Piccolo's eyes and he spoke in a low tone, "I was worried about you."

"I'm okay, Piccolo," Gohan said softly, watching his mentor with worried eyes.

"I kept envisioning you in trouble a month ago. It was hard," Piccolo mumbled.

"Piccolo," Gohan said slowly, "you were here a month ago. At Pan's birthday, remember?"

Piccolo blinked and his vision cleared. "Oh. Right."

"What's going on?" Gohan shifted uncomfortably. "Did you hit your head?"

"It's nothing," Piccolo scowled.

"Piccolo…"

"Drop it, Gohan."

"You're the one that came to me, Piccolo. Do you need help?"

"No! I came here," Piccolo yelled, but stopped and took a deep breath and continued in a softer tone. "I came here to see if you needed me."

"For what?" Gohan scratched the back of his head.

"Anything," Piccolo growled out.

"Well, no, I'm doing alright." Gohan smiled. "Things couldn't be better."

Piccolo felt like someone sucker punched him in the stomach. "Good," he grumbled.

He stood with a flourish and stalked back to the living room. Gohan was up and on his heels. "Piccolo, where are you going?"

"I don't know."

"But, you just got here."

"I know."

"What's the matter?"

"Everything!" Piccolo snapped, spinning on his heel. Gohan had followed him outside and Piccolo could just see Videl standing in shock with a shirt in her hands and Pan at her heels.

"Piccolo," Gohan touched his shoulder but Piccolo jerked from his touch.

"I'll see you, kid."

Piccolo blasted away, blowing dust across Gohan and their freshly laundered clothes.

Videl let out a frustrated squeal and stomped up to Gohan. "What is his problem?"

Gohan frowned, "I don't know."

---

Piccolo flew aimlessly, frustrated beyond belief. No one needed him to come back. Why did he then? What possible good had come from his return to earth? All that was waiting for him here was a millennia of loneliness and friends that did not understand.

He was a fool.

---

Legolas hugged Aragorn goodbye and kissed Arwen's cheek. It had been nearly a week since the aliens from another world had gone. He resigned himself to the fact that he was alone again.

"Alright, elf, let's get to it!"

Gimli was standing to the side, his pack high on his shoulders and pipe clenched in his teeth.

Aragorn clapped Legolas on the shoulder, "Where are you heading first?"

"Moria," the elf grinned weakly, "I promised Gimli we'd retrieve the book from his cousin's tomb to return to his family."

"Be careful," the Gondorian king frowned and nodded at Gimli, "you as well."

"Aye," Gimli nodded. "I intend to."

Legolas and Gimli walked down to the stable yard. The beautiful dapple horse was excited to see them. It neighed and knocked its hooves against the cobblestone. Legolas pet the horse's nose. "It's good to see you, my friend. It has been too long."

The elf helped prop Gimli up on the horse and leapt seamlessly in front of him. Gimli blew the elf's hair from his face.

"Come on, there's plenty to see, lad," Gimli quipped. They rode out of the city of Gondor and onto the plains, bound for Moria.

They had gone for miles and had stopped several hours later for lunch. Gimli puffed happily on his pipe and reclined against a nearby boulder. "How are ye, lad?"

"Fine, Gimli. We can probably make it to Edoras if we ride hard well into nightfall. We may be able to stay the night in a bed one last time."

The dwarf grinned. "That's all well and good, but it's not what I meant and ye know it.

Legolas schooled his features. "I'm well, Gimli."

"You lie like an elf, as well. I know you aren't alright," Gimli said matter-of-factly. "You mourn him because you have to, Legolas Greenleaf. You mourn him or you will never be able to move past it."

The elf gave him a tight smile, "I know, Gimli."

"I do not know what it is that you see in him," Gimli puffed on his pipe and grinned eviliy into the smoke, "but what I am most confused about, is what he could ever have seen in you."

Legolas slapped at him, rolling Gimli some ten feet into the clearing with a well placed foot. The dwarf grumbled and got to his feet wheezing with laughter. Legolas watched him walk slowly back and smiled as the dwarf caught his gaze. He didn't know what Piccolo could have wanted from him either.

---

The Namek landed outside of Goku's house. Goku may not be the brightest of men, but he had been there with him. He needed to talk to someone. He had made the biggest mistake of his life.

The door swung open before he could knock and both he and ChiChi stood gaping at each other in surprise for a moment before the woman got her bearings. "Piccolo."

"Where's Goku?"

ChiChi pushed past him with a basket of clothes in her arms. She puffed as she set it down beside the washtub and shook half of the clothes into the tub before answering. "I sent him after Vegeta."

"Really?" Piccolo didn't believe it.

"Yes," ChiChi straightened and fixed him with a hard look. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"No," Piccolo grumbled, "I'm just surprised you would let him go, let along make him."

ChiChi puffed a strand of hair from her face. "You went with them, you know about what happened."

Piccolo nearly sat down from shock. "Happened?"

"Don't play dumb with me. Goku explained what happened at Bulma's this morning."

"He told you everything?"

"Yes," ChiChi said, scrubbing a pair of gi bottoms roughly against the wash board.

"ChiChi," Piccolo paused, he wasn't going to talk to Goku's wife about this…

The woman looked up at him in surprise. Piccolo had rarely every used her name. "What is it?"

"Do you think…can I speak to you?"

The soap bar fell with a pang to the bottom of the washtub and ChiChi blinked wide eyes up at him.

"Never mind."

"No! No, Piccolo, sure." ChiChi held out a hand, motioning to the splitting block nearby for Piccolo to sit on. "What do you want to talk about?"

"About where we were…Middle Earth."

"Okay," ChiChi nodded, returning to her housework.

"I met someone while I was there," Piccolo ground out. It was a lot harder than he thought it would be. It certainly helped that ChiChi wasn't looking at him.

"Met someone? Romantically?" ChiChi continued to scrub at the gi pants, eyes wide as saucers.

"Yes," Piccolo said gruffly.

"What, uh, so what about this person?"

"I left them there. I think I'm an idiot."

ChiChi dropped the pants back into the water and turned around. She wiped her hands on her apron and sat down gingerly beside him on the splitting log. "Do you love her?"

"It's not a woman." Piccolo stiffened and would not look at her.

"Oh." ChiChi blinked and her mind tried to keep up with the conversation. "Then, do you love him?"

"I don't know." Piccolo said quietly. "I'm not sure I'm capable of it."

ChiChi sighed and tentatively pat his arm. "Well, you must care a good deal if you're still thinking about him now."

"Yea," he grudgingly admitted.

"So what's the problem? Go back."

"But I can't just go back. I didn't leave on the best of terms."

ChiChi huffed, "What is with all things male? If you love him, then go and get him! Don't just sit here and whine about it. You know, for a bunch of warriors with an impulse to up and leave at the first sign of a fight; none of you will fight for what you want."

Piccolo suppressed a grin. "True."

"Well? Do something about it."

"Gohan and Dende—"

"Have no say in it. They're full grown with lives of their own. Do something for yourself."

Piccolo grunted and watched as ChiChi got up and walked back to the wash basin. She got back to her knees with a groan and continued to scrub. The Namek stood and walked a few paces away.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," ChiChi said with a small smile.

Piccolo paused and looked down at her, "Does Goku know?"

The woman paused in her scrubbing. "How do you know?" she asked softly.

"Kami could feel sickness, and I had to train Dende when he first got here."

"Oh," ChiChi said in a breath. "I haven't told him." She went back to her scrubbing. "But he knows."

Piccolo grunted. "If Gohan asks…"

"I'll send him to Bulma for the answers." ChiChi smiled up at him. "He'll miss you, but he'll understand."

"Hnn."

He took off again, bound for Capsule Corps. If his life on Middle Earth had been confusing, his life now was total chaos.

As he flew toward Capsule Corps, he had to wonder just how complicated his life had gotten for him to run willy-nilly over the elf. He shouldn't have been so stubborn. He should have just sucked up his pride and told Legolas he wanted to stay.

He paused when the large building came into view and really thought about it this time. He wasn't the strongest, had no others to mentor, had no real home or others of his kind to relate too. Granted, Dende was here, and there was a whole planet of his kind that would welcome him home…but he had grown without their guidance and he would not have their understanding.

He dug his fingers into the pocket of his gi and removed the old sensu bean bag. He pulled the drawstrings open and shook the contents into his palm. A long, braided, chunk of platinum blonde hair curled around his fingers in the breeze.

He smirked at Gandalf's ingenuity and clutched the lock in his fist. He needed to see Bulma.

---

Days later, Legolas and Gimli had emerged, a little more than unscathed, from the depths of Moria. Just because the dark lord had fallen didn't mean that goblins had lain down to die. They still crawled all over the collapsing cavern.

The book had come out better than the two of them.

Currently the two of them were laying, gasping for breath, just outside the mouth of the cavern with the doors shut and sealed tightly behind them.

"Gimli," Legolas panted, bow and empty quiver beside him, "just for that, we are taking an extra two days in Fangorn."

The dwarf scowled and rolled his head toward him, "Fine, as long as we don't have to deal with any talking trees."

"But all trees talk," Legolas grinned as the dwarf sputtered.

Legolas sat up with a groan, "Come Gimli, the sooner we get back to travel, the sooner we can get away from this goblin pit."

"Agreed," the dwarf rumbled, turning over onto his hands and knees to push himself up. He patted his chest and let out a cry of rage. "Those little thieving bastards!"

"What is it?"

"They've taken my pipe!" Gimli lamented, scooping up his things and dragging his feet sadly behind Legolas.

Legolas laughed, for the first time in two weeks. Gimli grinned despite himself and reluctantly admitted that it was worth losing his favorite pipe to see the elf in good spirits again.

---

Bulma was sipping her coffee, looking up at Piccolo with a face devoid of all emotion. "You're sure about this?"

"Yes," he replied without hesitation.

The woman smiled around her cup and let out an exaggerated sigh. "Okay. Come with me."

---

Four more long days, Gimli and Legolas had gone from Moria and made it on the outskirts of dwarven territories. The dwarf demanded that they leave the horse and make their trek on foot, promising that they would be accepted far easier if they didn't have the animal with them.

As they entered the first cavern door, Legolas had to duck his head to enter. The further they went, the more he had to crouch until he wound up on his knees. He would go no further and scowled as Gimli laughed.

"I'm going to return to the fresh air, Gimli. I'll wait for you there."

"What's the matter, elf, can't handle a real dwarf home?"

"I don't think the real dwarf home can handle me," Legolas grinned and backed out to embrace the wide open spaces and clear air.

There were not many trees at this part of the caverns, so he made do by climbing up the mound—probably walking on Gimli's roof—and laying back to enjoy the sunshine with his eyes closed. The warmth felt quite nice after the damp chill from the caves and after a few minutes, he fell into a light slumber.

"I thought elves slept with their eyes open," a familiar and rough voice penetrated his happy haze of bliss. The familiarity unnerved him and Legolas' eyes snapped open.

"I must still be sleeping," he mumbled as an achingly familiar jade face shadowed his eyes.

The face smirked.

"Is it a good dream?"

"It's pleasant enough," Legolas said softly, unwilling to move in case it really was.

"So it could be better?" The handsome creature with Piccolo's face and voice asked with a rumble.

"Yes." Legolas said with a wistful sigh. "But it might be better if it wasn't."

The handsome face frowned. "Why is that?"

"Because, if the dream is too lovely, I will be all the more disappointed when I wake."

After a moment of silence, the creature with Piccolo's face grinned. "What if I can promise you won't be disappointed?"

"So long as you promise," Legolas said quietly.

The turban on his head was removed, and Legolas watched with baited breath as Piccolo lowered himself to the earth. His face was upside down, but the elf still couldn't imagine a better fit when their lips touched.

It was soft and slow; and better than his brain had imagined it for the past couple of weeks. Piccolo sat up and looked down at him. "Are you awake now?"

Legolas blinked and smirked slightly, just a curling of lips, "I hope so."

The Namek shifted around and sat down beside him on the hilltop. Legolas sat up on his elbows and looked over at him. The alien was dressed in a series of violet folds, a loose and rather comfortable looking set of clothing. A heavy white cape was spread out behind him.

"I'm sorry," Piccolo said suddenly in the quiet.

Legolas nodded, "as am I."

The Namek turned his head far enough to look down at him from the corner of his eye. "I don't have these kinds of relationships. I don't know how to act."

Legolas grinned and turned, laying his head on Piccolo's thigh. He tugged the cape edge around so that it lay across his torso and thighs. It was warm and smelled of the Namek's musk. "That's alright. I imagine we will figure it out."

"That easily?" Piccolo's brow furrowed.

"What?"

"You forgiving me and us starting over again?"

"Yes, I think so." Legolas nodded, sighing happily as Piccolo carded one hand through his hair.

"Why so easy? I figured you would be stubborn enough to make me regret it for a few years."

Legolas laughed lightly. "While you've been gone, I've had ample time to think and to assess just what it was that we might have had. It may not get serious, but I am more than willing to take the chance." He smiled sadly up at Piccolo's face and touched his cheek with one hand. "I used to pray to the Valar that you would come back so I could try."

"Hnn," Piccolo smirked, turning his face up to the sun and taking a deep breath in.

"How did you get here?" Legolas asked suddenly, sitting up and tangling himself in the cape in the process.

"Bulma." The Namek tugged his cape free and Legolas rolled ungracefully halfway down the hill.

The elf returned slowly, taking the moment to look Piccolo over from afar. He was truly there.

"How long were you on your world?"

Piccolo colored lightly and looked away. "Not long."

"It's been two weeks, three days and," Legolas squinted up at the sun, "maybe ten hours here. Not that I've been counting," he smiled.

He settled back in his spot at Piccolo's side and tugged the cape back to where it had been around him. They basked in the sunlight, enjoying the feel of one another for a quarter hour in silence.

"Not even a day," Piccolo said into the quiet.

"Hmm?" Legolas opened one eye and looked up at him.

"I wasn't gone a day and I had to come back." Piccolo looked down at him with a hardened gaze, willing the elf to laugh. Legolas sat up, not looking the least bit tickled by the news and gripped Piccolo's face between his palms. He kissed the Namek hard, fingers tightening on his cheekbones. He pulled away with a gasp and half-growl.

"What was that for?" Piccolo rumbled with a grin. "Not that I'm complaining."

"I don't know," Legolas remarked idly, licking his lips, "it felt like proper the thing to do."

"Remind me not to make fun of you for being a proper prince anytime soon."

The smile on Legolas' face turned brittle and Piccolo frowned. "What?"

"I am no longer a prince."

"What do you mean?"

"I am not welcome home," Legolas said with his chin held high.

Piccolo's hands curled into fists. "Why not?"

"Because I came to help the mortal men and left my people to fight their own evil."

"Then I'll have to have a talk with them." Piccolo growled.

The false smile on Legolas' face became a little more real, "That's alright. I don't need them. I have Aragorn, Elrond and his children, and Gimli…and you." The elf kissed him again. "That is enough for me."

"Foolish elf, if you don't quite jumping along the…" Gimli trailed off. He had climbed from his ancestral home to yell at the elf for making the roofs shake to find Legolas with the Namek.

"Master Namek," he said in surprise.

"Gimli," Piccolo nodded.

The dwarf climbed the hill and stopped beside them. He curled on meaty fist into Piccolo's collar and leaned far into his space. "I will welcome you with one warning, if you think you can just leave again without a word, I will find a way to track you and cut you down to my size."

Legolas smiled fondly at the dwarf and Piccolo snorted.

"That sounds fair." Piccolo nodded.

"Good. Now, lad, where are we off to next?"

Piccolo grinned, "I think I have an idea."

Legolas looked intrigued and looked to Gimli for support. The dwarf nodded and they both waited expectantly.

"Merry and Pippin said something about the Shire…"

Legolas laughed long and loud, the peals echoing in the many hills. Piccolo smiled and stood, toppling the elf to the ground. He offered him a hand and pulled the elf to him breathing deeply. Yes, everything on Middle Earth smelled better…


	41. Epiloge: GokuVegeta

Goku flew toward his little teapot home in the forest with his mind a confounded mess. He now had two major problems; their names being ChiChi and Vegeta.

He loved them both, that he knew for certain. He had married his wife and had two wonderful children with her. She was the brain behind his brawn, keeping his world afloat with her inner strength and moral beauty. He could not forsake her even now knowing that he had made such a strong connection with Vegeta.

But he wasn't going to let Vegeta go either. The older saiyajin had always been a source of awe and inspiration for him, even before he had begun developing further, confusing feelings for him. The prince was everything Goku was not. He was proud, arrogant, and resourceful. The horrors Vegeta had faced in his life would have been insurmountable if they had happened to him. Never would he have been able to go on if someone had destroyed his family and home. To be beaten, degraded and forced into subservience for most of his life…he would have sooner been killed.

ChiChi was a great caretaker. Even with the multiple times he had left her alone to raise their children, she always welcomed him home with open arms—and a few choice words. She had loved him with all of his faults for many years, and there were still years left in her yet. He wouldn't break her heart so late in life. He didn't think he could even if he tried.

The teapot house loomed closer and Goku landed, deciding to walk the remainder to give him further time to think. The trees swayed in the breezes, the familiar smell of his home comforting. At the back of his mind, the tightly shut mental connection with Vegeta was a source of incredible pain for him. He had hurt the other saiyajin, deeply, by running back to his wife. They had spent many days together without these complications and hadn't once thought about them. Now they had to face them all at once.

ChiChi was surprised when he opened the door a few minutes later.

"Goku! You're home early, I expected to have to call over to Bulma's and harass you to get here on time." She smiled at him and wiped her hands on the dish towel. Goku didn't have the heart to laugh at her jibe. ChiChi frowned slowly and came from the sink and around the table. "Goku, are you alright? You look like something terrible has happened."

"I…" Goku sat down slowly in the nearest chair. ChiChi quickly drew one up in front of him and rested a comforting hand on his knee.

"Honey, what is it?" Her sable eyebrows were dipped in worry.

"Something happened at Bulma's a few month—I mean a few minutes ago." Goku cleared his throat and rested his head in the palm of his hands to try and gather his thoughts. "How long do you have until your appointment?"

ChiChi hurriedly checked the wall clock, "About forty minutes, now tell me what is going on!"

"Okay," Goku said softly. "That should give me some time to tell you the basics." He smiled sadly at his wife and swept her out of her chair into a hug. ChiChi hugged him back, more panicked now than before. "I missed you, Chi."

"Goku, you've only been gone for a couple of hours," ChiChi sniffed, tearing up as the worst possible images began to flood her mind.

"Not for me. It's been longer, a lot longer." Goku let her sit down again and drew in a deep breath. "It started when Bulma called this morning about some new machine she'd finished. It actually turned out to be a time machine, one she'd modeled after the one the future Trunks had come in…"

---

Vegeta was sweating great beads as he worked out ruthlessly in the Gravity Chamber. He had not been training in the intense weight for quite a while and should have dropped the amount down by five or so. Unfortunately for his aching body, he had increased it the moment he stepped in by nearly twenty.

His body screamed for a break. Every joint squeaked, every tendon twanged, every muscle groaned in pain. Vegeta didn't really notice and tried to embrace what aching his body was managing to knock into his brain. If he focused on the outside pain, the pain on the inside seemed a little less.

His connection to Kakkarot was sealed off tightly and he had to keep a conscious effort to keep it that way. Eventually, if he practiced it long enough, maybe it would stay shut without so much concentration. He didn't want to hear the baka's pleading. Or worse, his excuses.

Oh, it hurt. It probably would have hurt far less if Kakkarot had only reached in and literally tore his heart out. At least then he would be dead and not have to suffer like this. He scolded himself. He should have seen this coming. It was too much to ask that the third class idiot would stand beside him.

The idiot's strength, innocence, and undying love for his family. How he had envied him the first for nearly a decade. It was unfair that Kakkarot could be so strong when it came so effortlessly to him. Vegeta had to scream and scrape to earn what he could, and still he could not catch up to the other saiyajin's ability. Eventually the desire to beat the living tar from him faded, and it was enough to be standing beside him in a fight.

His innocence was never ending. It amazed Vegeta how the man had killed so many, utterly destroyed life—no matter how evil—and not become jaded by it; or by his own strength. It was almost childlike how dense he was to the ways of the world. It was the good in him, Vegeta had decided years ago. The untainted, pure good in the saiyajin's soul left him so innocent and chaste against evil. It was no wonder that evil fell before him time and time again.

As for the baka's love…he thought he had it. Or at least a good facsimile. It was a beautiful thing to watch Kakkarot with his sons. Even though their father had been absent for whole sections of their life, both of the brats had welcomed him home and loved him all the stronger. And Kakkarot, with his large heart and loving soul, could find no fault in them.

When his eldest had married and moved away, he had thrown rice and laughed loud with the rest, proud of the accomplishments the young man had made. But Vegeta had seen the longing in the saiyajin's brown eyes as he watched the boy leave. His son no longer needed him as he had, and that overwhelming love he had for his child had wept. But the granddaughter the boy brought home one day had been more than enough to heal him. The girl was Kakkarot's whole world.

Just like ChiChi.

Vegeta swore as his eyes prickled and his throat closed up tight. "Fuck you, Kakkarot," he strangled out.

Lights in the gravity room began to blink and the gravity slowly dropped. The saiyajin prince stalked forward on his rubbery legs and stared down at the panel. The infernal machine had overheated.

He slammed doors all the way through Capsule Corps as he made his way toward his room. Mrs. Briefs had scrambled from his path and didn't bother to make a witty remark.

"Daddy," Bra squeaked from her bedroom doorway.

Vegeta stilled and took several deep breaths before looking back her expectantly.

"Is your machine broked?" She asked in her small, four year old voice.

"Yes," Vegeta said tightly, trying to control his anger. His daughter was not the cause, she did not need to be the tool to take it out on.

"Do you wanna play with me?" She asked hopefully, her eyes wide.

"I'm busy," he said stiffly, wiping the towel around his neck and down his face.

"Okay," she said quietly, eyes downcast.

A flood of horror filled him as he posture reminded him so badly of himself at her age standing before Freeza. He touched the top of her head and caressed her silken hair. She looked back up at him and turned her head into his hand like a cat. He smirked down at his daughter and cupped her cheek in his calloused hand.

"Would you help me make something to eat?"

"Yes," she chirruped happily, then quickly schooled her features to match her fathers. "Yes, daddy," she said again with more composure.

"Good, give me a moment."

Vegeta showered quickly and changed. As he picked up his clothing, the small silver disk fell from his pocket and he plucked it up between his fingers. A memory from another world, another time. He stuffed it into the bottom drawer of his dresser and slammed it shut.

He met his little girl at the top of the stairs and together they went to the kitchen to make a snack.

---

ChiChi was gaping, arms splayed across the table and shaking her head.

"…we finally managed to destroy Freeza. Again." Goku took a deep breath in and rubbed his eyes.

"Wait, wait…" ChiChi held up a hand. "Freeza? The Freeza? How did he get to Medium Earth?"

"Middle Earth," Goku corrected. He shrugged his broad shoulders, "I'm not really sure how he made it there. If it hadn't been for Vegeta, I would have died."

"Vegeta…" ChiChi frowned thoughtfully. "That's the hundredth time you mentioned him." 

Goku nodded his head slowly, turning beseeching eyes to his wife. 

"Yea, Vegeta," he said softly.

"Goku," the woman touched his hand. "What is it about Vegeta? Did he do something to you?" Her eyes hardened.

"No!" Goku shook her hand off, alarmed. "I mean, not how you think. I… Chi, do you remember a conversation we had last year, when you were really sick, remember?"

The woman leaned back in her chair with her arms over her chest. Finally, she nodded slowly. "Yes."

"When you said you wanted me to—"

"I wanted you to find someone else to love." ChiChi nodded, "Yes, I remember." Her eyes narrowed, and then grew round. "Are you…are you telling me, that you, a-and Vegeta…?"

Goku nodded glumly, "We reached an understanding, Chi… I don't want you to be mad at me or Vegeta either. We were gone for a long time, and eventually it became hard to ignore."

"Goku…"

"And, I didn't really know if we would ever make it back!"

"Goku…"

"I don't want you mad, ChiChi, but you have to try to understand—"

"Goku! I get it." ChiChi held a hand over his mouth. "I do understand. I don't have to like it," she gave him a hard look, "but I do understand it."

"Oh, good." Goku sighed heavily.

The clock on the wall chimed softly and they both looked at it in surprise. "We have to go, my appointment's in five minutes!"

They both climbed into the car and within a matter of moments were headed toward Mercy Hospital in Satan City. The drive was not long, but somehow stifling. ChiChi kept casting odd looks at her husband and Goku was trying to ignore them.

ChiChi pulled up into an empty parking space and turned in the bucket seat. "Goku, I'm going to ask you a question and I want you to answer me honestly."

"Ooookay," Goku swallowed hard.

"Do you have feelings for him?" ChiChi's dark gaze was scrutinizing. "Still?"

"Yes," Goku said softly, using most of his willpower to not look away from ChiChi's face.

"Do you still love me?" She asked softly, her eyes slowly growing glassy. 

"Yes," he said with more conviction. She smiled at him and kissed his cheek.

"We're going to discuss this after my appointment," She unlocked her door and looped her arm through his as they went through the automatic doors. "I just need you to be honest with me."

"Of course, ChiChi," Goku nodded. 

She smiled up at him and together they made it to her appointment, only a few minutes late.

---

Bulma entered the kitchen and paused in the entry. Vegeta was standing over the stove, stirring something in a pan. Bra was at her father's side, passing him ingredients as he asked quietly for them.

"Something smells nice," Bulma said quietly.

"Me and daddy are cooking," Bra said happily as she passed her father the pepper from the table.

"I see that," Bulma entered and kissed the girl on her head. She watched them for a while longer, smiling softly as Bra gazed up at her father with adoring eyes. Now and then Vegeta would rest his hand atop his daughter's head and the girl would close her eyes in delight.

"Bra, honey, would you see if your brother is cleaning his room? Hmm?" The little girl turned her eyes up to her father and Vegeta nodded without looking down at her. 

"Okay, momma," and the little girl went bouncing off to find Trunks.

Vegeta continued to cook with his back to her. Bulma reclined against the counter beside him and watched his profile.

"Vegeta—"

"I don't want to talk about it," he hissed and stabbed violently at the beef in the pan.

"Then at least listen—"

"No!"

"Dammit, Vegeta!" Bulma cried, slamming her hand down on the countertop. "You have to understand that things are different now. It was easy when we were gone, there were no extraneous ties. But Goku has a family here, a wife, you knew that when you started."

Vegeta's hand tightened on the handle of the pan and he grunted. "I know," he said gruffly.

"Well, Vegeta," Bulma huffed, "what did you expect then?"

The saiyajin prince didn't answer.

Silently, Bulma watched as Vegeta got down a plate and served himself his meal. As an afterthought he took down a smaller dish and put some food there. He popped the cap off a gallon of milk and sat down with it at the table to eat.

"Vegeta—"

"It is not open for discussion," he spat, glaring up at her from over his plate.

Bra tiptoed into the room and paused, looking between her parents with a little trepidation. 

"Daddy?"

"Come sit by me," Vegeta pulled out a chair and set the smaller plate of food beside him.

Bra smiled happily and clambered up, clutching a small glass of milk Vegeta poured for her from his gallon jug in both chubby hands.

Bulma set a series of napkins on the table and sighed. "You have a family too, Vegeta. Would you leave your children if Goku demanded you to?" She whispered into his ear.

The woman left before Vegeta could reply and he watched his daughter eat with a fondness in his chest. He looked around the room and made sure they were indeed alone. He laid a butterfly light kiss on the girl's head.

Bra looked up at him with bright eyes and hugged him tightly around the chest. He held her loosely with one arm for a moment. "Eat, your food will get cold."

---

Goku helped his wife back into the car and drove them slowly home. The doctor had used a bunch of long words that he didn't really understand, but the amount of medications ChiChi had picked up from the pharmacy told him enough. He may not have a large vocabulary and a doctorate in medicine, but he knew what he saw.

"Alright, Goku," ChiChi said, turning in her seat to watch him as he drove. "We're going to talk about this, alright?"

"About what?" Goku asked, unsure of whether it was her sickness or Vegeta they were going to broach.

"This thing between you and Vegeta." ChiChi clarified, tucking her bag of medication deeply into her purse.

"Okay," Goku mumbled.

"First things first, do you love him?"

Goku nearly swerved out of the road but managed to correct in time to miss a mailbox. "I—I don't know… I think so."

"How can you not know?" ChiChi asked, truly curious.

"It's different. I mean, I always want to protect you, keep you safe and make sure you're happy. But with Vegeta… I know he can care for himself, you know? I mean, he's really strong, he doesn't need me to watch out for him."

ChiChi nodded slowly and played idly with a strand of hair that had fallen out of her bun. "Is there anything else? It can't be just your noble need to protect, Goku. Love is more than that."

Goku thought it over for a time and blushed, "Well I, I want him."

"For what?"

The blush grew darker and Goku coughed lightly into his fist, "I, I just want him."

"Oh!" ChiChi's eyes grew round and she colored herself. "You want… with Vegeta?"

"Yea," Goku admitted.

"Well, that… I mean, that's lust. It's still not love," ChiChi blurted, her mind cramping as it tried to imagine her husband and the older saiyajin together.

"It hurts," Goku said softly, turning onto the road that led back to their home.

"What hurts?" ChiChi asked with a concerned face.

"Everything. I think about him and my chest squeezes until I don't think I can breathe. I-I-I can feel him, in my head, and I want to scream until it goes away," Goku took a deep breath after he ended his rant and glanced to his wife. ChiChi was looking out the side window. "ChiChi?"

"Oh, Goku," She sighed. The car stopped outside their house. She unbuckled and leaned across the seat, hugging him tightly around the shoulders. "Go on."

"What do you mean?"

ChiChi shoved him out of the car and withdrew from her side of the car. "I'm saying, go to him."

"But, ChiChi, we're still married, I can't just run off with him because—"

"Goku," ChiChi had covered his mouth again. "You may not have been the best husband, but you are still a good one. You are a good father, and you have enough heart to make up for all the wrongs in the world. I am so happy that I could be one person that you love so much. But there's enough heart left in you to love someone else. I know that. And, I accept it."

"But what about Gohan—"

"What about him?" ChiChi demanded. "It isn't his business if you love someone else, Goku. He will accept it, and get over it."

"Goten—"

"Will understand more than you think." ChiChi smiled secretly. "He's been spending an inordinate amount of time with Trunks."

"Oh, wow." Goku breathed. "Are you sure—"

"Go on, Goku. I'm sure." ChiChi hugged him tightly. "If he loves you like I do, he misses you so badly it hurts now that you've gone. Especially if he thinks he's lost you for a long time."

"I love you, ChiChi." Goku said sternly, kissing her all over her face.

"I know," ChiChi smiled, "and I love you too. And so does Vegeta."

---

Vegeta was sitting cross-legged in front of the couch, reclining back against it. The television was on full blast and he was flicking through the channels, never staying on one for longer than five minutes.

His current channel was an infomercial with a loud mouthed harpy giggling over a knife that could cut through anything. He wondered idly if she would still giggle and fawn if the knife was cutting off her arm 'as though through butter!'

The doorbell chimed, though he could barely hear it over the television. "Someone get the door!"

Mrs. Briefs traipsed through the hall, waving happily at Vegeta and made her way toward the front of the house. Vegeta snorted and flicked the channel button.

A soap opera was playing on this station. An overly polished woman was swooning against a dark, mysterious man. "Oh, Rick, you don't understand, I love you!"

Vegeta snorted and changed the channel.

"'Geta?"

The saiyajin prince stiffened, the remote control slipping from his fingers to the plush carpet. 

"Vegeta, I need to talk to you," Goku said. He sat down on the edge of the couch, his thigh just brushing Vegeta's shoulder.

"There's nothing to talk about," Vegeta made to get up, but Goku stopped him by resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Please, Vegeta." Goku's voice cracked and the ouji sat still, cautiously opening their bond link a crack. A trickle of worry, remorse, and affection broke through and he clamped it shut again. 

"I talked to ChiChi." Goku felt Vegeta's shoulder muscle tighten at his wife's name.

"How is the harpy?" Vegeta spat.

"Vegeta," Goku said stiffly in warning, "I think she's dying."

Guilt flooded his stomach, but Vegeta pushed it away.

"She's on more medicine, and the doctor set her up another appointment for next week, but that's not why I'm here." Goku slipped to the floor beside Vegeta and stretched his legs out in front of him.

Vegeta flinched away from him and Goku sighed unhappily. 

"Vegeta, I want to say I'm sorry," Goku looked at him pleadingly, but Vegeta kept staring up at the television screen. "I don't want to know what you must think of me right now, but I don't want you to be angry with me."

"Too late, Kakkarot," Vegeta mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I can't explain it to you, Vegeta. I don't know what to say to make it right, I don't even know if I can. I still want you," Goku bit his lip, "want you—in my life. Please don't make me go back to the way we were, I don't think I can."

"What do you want from me, Kakkarot?" Vegeta hissed, finally snapping his head around to glare. "Do you want me to weep, accept your apology with open arms and promise my undying love for you? It is not going to happen."

"No, Vegeta," Goku frowned, "I just want you to listen. If you can't even do that for me, then maybe all of this was just a mistake. If all you wanted when we were gone was a quick fuck, you could have found someone else."

Goku stood with a growl and stalked to the front of the house. Vegeta scrambled up and stormed after him, his mind whirling. Kakkarot did not swear often. 

"How dare you," he snapped, grabbing hold of the larger saiyajin's shoulder and spinning him around. "How dare you come into my house and lie to my face. If I wanted a fuck from you, I would have taken it! And I would certainly not have allowed this!" He yanked the collar of his shirt down with a hiss, the crescent scar exposed.

"Then tell me! Do you want me to leave? Do you want me stay? I'll fight for this Vegeta, but if you don't want it, then I'll go home now." Goku shook the slighter saiyajin by the shoulders.

"Of course I want it," Vegeta howled, throwing Goku into a wall. The drywall cracked and a puff of dust filtered through the air. He hauled Goku down to eye level, not caring that the large saiyajin was doubled over uncomfortably. "I do not share."

"You'll have to," Goku said softly, "because I still love my wife, and my kids, and my friends. You can't lock me in a closet and keep me to yourself, Vegeta."

The fist in his collar shook and Goku pried his shirt collar free. He kissed Vegeta softly on the cheek and turned.

"Kakkarot," Vegeta yelled after him, voice cracking. Goku grabbed at his chest as his heart clenched at the heartache in the prince's voice, but he kept walking.

Your move, Vegeta, he thought as he leapt off of the front stoop and into the air.

Vegeta followed him to the front door and watched Goku take off. He clenched his jaw and his fists as the third class disappeared.

With eyes closed and fists shaking, Vegeta slowly opened the link between them and sat down heavily. Goku's heart was aching to break.

---

Goku flew to Dende's lookout and sat on the outer rim, looking down at the planet as life there moved on without him.

The small Namekian was nowhere to be seen, but Goku didn't mind. He was welcoming his newfound solitude. He knew the exact moment when Vegeta's link was open again. He tried to keep his emotions under control and try not to draw any of Vegeta's into his mind. The ouji was careful to only let muted emotions go, but Goku was happy enough anyway. It may or may not have been something Goku had said that made Vegeta open the link, but at least it was a step in the right direction.

He was surprised to feel Vegeta's ki coming toward the lookout. He would have never expected Vegeta to make an effort. Goku thought he would have had to wait a couple of days to let Vegeta calm down before he went off to find him.

The small saiyajin prince landed softly on the marbled flooring nearly ten minutes later.

"Sit with me, Vegeta," Goku said softly, patting the space beside him without turning to look at him.

After a moment's hesitation, Vegeta walked over and sat gingerly down beside him.

"Kakkarot, I do not," Vegeta paused, hands moving in agitation as he tried to express himself. "I do not know how to handle this situation."

"Me either," Goku admitted, swinging his feet.

"I don't like to share," Vegeta started, holding a hand up to stop Goku from interrupting, "but at one time, I did not like you either."

Goku sidled up to the smaller man and swung an arm over his shoulders. "Well, I like you. And I'm willing to defend this—whatever this is—from anyone who can't handle it. I just want you to know when to back me up," he looked down at Vegeta, "and when to back off."

"Hnn," Vegeta grunted, trying not to relax against Goku's side.

"ChiChi is going to go through a really rough time really soon." Goku said quietly. "She's old Vegeta, and she's sick. And I plan on being there for her every agonizing minute."

"I understand," Vegeta nodded.

"I'm glad you do," Goku looked down at him drawing the ouji closer. He kissed Vegeta's temple. "Are we okay. For now, anyway?"

"Yes," Vegeta replied after a moment. "For now."

Goku smiled, thin lipped, and bit Vegeta's shoulder until the saiyajin grunted, then kissed the spot. "Good." He scooped Vegeta onto his lap and wound his arms around the prince's waist.

"Kakkarot," Vegeta warned.

Goku could sense his unease and softly kissed the back of his neck. "It's okay 'Geta. I just want to hold you for a bit." A wave of apprehension ran through him. Maybe Vegeta didn't want him to. "Is-is that okay?"

Vegeta reclined into Goku's chest and threaded his fingers through Goku's, "Yes, Kakkarot. It's okay."

---

They spent the rest of the daylight sitting on the Lookout, sharing tales and remembering the time they had spent on Middle Earth.

Dende came to them just as the sun was setting. The young Namek greeted them fondly and didn't seem the least bit surprised at their proximity. "Hello Goku, hello Vegeta."

"Hey, Dende," Goku chirruped. 

The Namek's smile faded a little and he gnawed on his lower lip. 

"Have either of you seen Piccolo?"

Goku thought and shook his head. "Not since we got back, why?"

"He came by earlier, he seemed a little upset. He kept asking me weird questions and then just left."

Vegeta snorted, "Regrets it already," he mumbled to himself.

"Regrets what?" Dende asked innocently, eyes wide.

"Leaving," Vegeta replied as if it answered everything.

"Don't worry, Dende," Goku patted the Namek's arm. "Piccolo knows what he's doing."

The saiyajns stretched and leapt from the Lookout's edge, bound for Capsule Corps. Dende waved as they disappeared, worried as he was left with more questions than answers. To make matters worse, he couldn't feel the other Namek's ki anywhere on the planet. It was as though he had simply disappeared. 


End file.
